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Where  Lincoln  Died 

FRONTISPrECE 


WALKS  ABOUT 
WASHINGTON 


BY 


FRANCIS    E.    LEUPP 


WITH     DRAWINGS    BY 

LESTER    G.    HORNBY 


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BOSTON 
LITTLE,    BROWN,   AND    COMPANY 

1915 


Copyright,  igi^, 
By  Little,  Brown,  and  Company. 


All  rights  reserved 
Published,  September,  1915 


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«.         1*1 


Set  up  and  electrotyped  by  J.  S.  Gushing  Co.,  NorwooH,  Mass.,  U.S.A.. 
Presswork  by  S.  J.  Parkhill  &  Co.,  Boston,  Mass.,  U.S.A. 


ADA,    HAROLD,    ETHEL 
CONSTANCE,   KATHLEEN 

AND  THE 

MEMORY    OF    GRAHAM 


31461 fi 


Preface 


THIS  is  not  a  history.  It  is  not  a  guide-book. 
It  is  not  an  encyclopedia.  It  is  nothing  more 
ambitious  than  the  title  would  indicate  :  a  stroll  about 
Washington  with  my  arm  through  my  reader's,  and  a 
bit  of  friendly  chat  by  the  way.  Mr.  Hornby,  sketch- 
book in  hand,  will  accompany  us,  to  give  permanence 
to  our  impressions  here  and  there. 

First,  we  will  take  a  general  look  at  the  city  and 
recall  some  of  the  more  interesting  incidents  connected 
with  its  century  and  a  quarter  of  growth.  Next,  we 
will  walk  at  our  leisure  through  its  public  places  and 

[  vii] 


Prefc 


ace 


try  to  people   them  in   imagination  with    the   figures 
which  once  were  so  much  in  evidence  there. 

For  the  stories  woven  into  our  talk  I  make  no  fur- 
ther claim  than  that  they  have  come  to  me  from  a 
variety  of  sources  —  personal  observation,  dinner-table 
gossip,  old  letters  and  diaries,  and  local  tradition.  A 
few,  which  seemed  rather  too  vague  in  detail,  I  have 
tried  to  verify.  My  ardor  for  research,  however,  was 
dampened  by  the  discovery  of  from  two  to  a  dozen 
versions  of  every  occurrence,  so  that  I  have  been  driven 
to  accepting  those  which  appeared  most  probable  or 
most  picturesque,  falling  back  upon  the  plea  of  the 
Last  Minstrel  : 

"  I  cannot  tell  how  the  truth  may  be ; 
I  say  the  tale  as  'twas  said  to  me." 

And  now,  let  us  be  off  ! 

F.  E.  L. 

Washington,  D.C, 
August  I,  1915. 


[  viii  ] 


M*> 


4i  ^MJi 


Contents 


Preface       

Chapter 

I.     A  Capital  Made  to  Order 

II.     War  Times  and  Their  Sequel 

III.  "On  the  Hill"      .... 

IV.  These  Our  Lawmakers 

V.  "The  Other  End  of  the  Avenue" 

VI.  Through  Many  Changing  Years 

VII.  "The  Spirit  of  Great  Events"  . 

VIII.  New  Faces  in  Old  Places    . 

IX.  The  Region  'Round  About  . 

X.  Monuments  and  Memories    . 

Index  


Page 

vii 

I 

26 

54 

85 
114 

147 
177 
207 

235 
261 

287 


[ix] 


N.V  ,;■-'''<•■ 


■''p^'^f;'^-^- 


■.^.. ..  -,■.., '.i  }■,■  -'-V  X,      .VV-  .... .  •  \  ^ 


^y- 


"^^^^i^^^^afS:-- 


List  of  Illustrations 


White  House,  from  the  State  Department     . 
Where  Lincoln  Died       ..... 
Down  F  Street  to  the  Interior  Department  . 
Old  Mill,  on  Bladensburg  Battlefield     . 
Washington,  across  the  Potomac  from  Arlington 
Capitol,  from  Pennsylvania  Avenue,  West    . 

General  Washington's  Office  in  Georgetown  . 
George  Washington  Tavern,  Bladensburg 
Octagon  House       ...... 

Union  Engine  House  of  1815 
On  the  Ruins  of  Fort  Stevens 

[xi] 


Page 
i 

Frontispiece 

vii 

ix 

xi 

xiii 
Facing  Page 
8 

18 

30 
42 

50 


List  of  Illustrations 


Survivals  from  "Before  the  War" 

Rock  Creek   ....... 

Capitol,  from  New  Jersey  Avenue 

Where  Dolly  Madison  Gave  Her  Farewell  Ball 

Lee  Mansion  at  Arlington      .... 

Old  Carlyle  Mansion,  Alexandria  . 
Washington's  Pew  in  Christ  Church,  Alexandria 
Mount  Vernon       ...... 

Tudor  House,  Georgetown     .... 

Bladensburg  Duelling-Ground 

Decatur  House       ...... 

Soldiers'  Home       ...... 

Old  City  Hall 

The  "Old  Capitol" 

St.  Paul's,  the  Oldest  Church  in  the  District 

St.  John's,  "the  President's  Church"    . 

Ford's  Theatre,  the  Old  Front 

Stage  Entrance  through  which  Booth  Escaped 

Rendezvous  of  the  Lincoln  Conspirators 

A  Herdic  Cab        ...... 


Facing  Page 
62 


74 

84 
96 
108 
120 
132 
142 

154 

156 

170 
180 
192 
204 
218 

234 
248 
260 
274 
286 


[xli] 


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Walks  About  Washington 

CHAPTER   I 
A   CAPITAL  MADE  TO  ORDER 

WITH  the  possible  exception  of  Petrograd,  Wash- 
ington is  the  only  one  of  the  world's  great 
capitals  that  was  deliberately  created  for  its  purpose. 
Look  for  the  origin  of  London,  Paris,  Berlin,  or  Rome, 
and  you  find  it  enveloped  in  a  cloud  of  myth  and  fable, 
from  which,  it  appears,  the  city  emerged  and  took 
its  place  in  history  because  certain  evolutionary  forces 
had  made  it  the  nucleus  of  a  nation  and  hence  the 
natural  seat  of  government.  Not  so  the  capital  of 
the  United  States.  Here  the  Government  was  already 
established  and  seeking  a  habitation ;  and,  since  no 
existing  city  offered  one  that  seemed  generally  satis- 
factory, a  new  city  was  made  to  order,  so  that  from  the 
outset  it  could  be  shaped  as  its  tenant-master  deemed  ^ 
best. 

The  creative  force  at  work  in  this  instance  found 
its  outlet  through  a  dinner.  Of  the  ready-made  cities 
which   had   competed   for  the  honor  of  housing   the 

[I] 


Walks  About    Washington 

Government,  New  York  and  Philadelphia  were  regarded 
'by  the  Southern  members  of  Congress  as  too  far 
north  both  geographically  and  in  sentiment,  while  the 
Northern  members  were  equally  unwilling  to  go  far 
south  in  view  of  the  difficulties  of  travel.  Another 
sectional  controversy  broke  out  over  the  question 
whether  the  Federal  Government,  since  it  owed  its 
birth  to  the  War  for  Independence,  were  not  in  honor 
bound  to  assume  the  debts  incurred  by  the  several 
States  in  prosecuting  that  war.  The  North,  as  the 
more  serious  sufferer,  demanded  that  it  should,  but 
the  South  insisted  that  every  State  should  bear  its 
own  burden.  In  the  midst  of  the  discussion,  Thomas 
Jefferson,  who  happened  to  be  in  a  position  to  act  as 
mediator,  invited  a  few  leaders  of  both  factions  to  meet 
at  his  table  ;  there,  under  the  influence  of  savory  viands 
and  a  bottle  of  port  apiece,  they  arranged  a  compro- 
mise, whereby  the  Southern  members  were  to  vote  for 
the  assumption  of  the  debts,  in  exchange  for  Northern 
votes  for  a  southern  site.  The  program  went  through 
Congress  by  a  small  majority,  and  the  site  chosen  was 
a  tract  about  ten  miles  square  on  both  banks  of  the 
Potomac  River,  the  land  on  the  upper  shore  being 
ceded  by  Maryland  and  that  on  the  lower  by  Virginia. 
The  Virginia  part  was  given  back  in  1846. 

As  far  as  we  know,  the  first  map  of  this  region  was 

[2] 


>  A   Capital  Made  to    Order 

drawn  by  Captain  John  Smith  of  Pocahontas  fame  and 
pubHshed  in  1620  in  his  "Sixth  Voyage  to  that  Part 
of  Virginia  now  Planted  by  EngHsh  Colonies,  whom 
God  increase  and  preserve";  and  the  picturesque 
river  which  runs  through  it  was  described  by  him  as 
the  "Patawomeke,  navigable  140  myles,  and  fed  with 
many  sweet  rivers  and  springs  which  fall  from  the 
bordering  hils.  The  river  exceedth  with  aboundance 
of  fish." 

When  the  Commissioners  appointed  by  President 
Washington  took  it  over  as  a  federal  district,  they 
changed  its  Indian  name,  Connogochegue,  to  the 
Territory  of  Columbia ;  and  the  city  which  they  laid 
out  in  it  was  by  universal  acclaim  called  Washington, 
regardless  of  the  modest  protests  of  the  statesman  thus 
honored.  Georgetown,  which  is  now  a  part  of  Wash- 
ington, was  then  a  pretty,  well-to-do,  little  Maryland 
town  about  a  hundred  years  old,  and  Alexandria, 
Virginia,  included  in  the  southern  end  of  the  District 
as  then  bounded,  was  a  shipping  port  of  some  conse- 
quence. All  the  rest  of  the  tract  was  forest  and  farrfl 
land.  The  President  felt  a  lively  personal  interest 
in  the  whole  neighborhood.  His  estate.  Mount  Ver- 
non, lay  only  a  short  boat-ride  down  the  Potomac ; 
and  he  had  been  instrumental  in  starting  a  project  for 
the  canal  now  known  as  the  Chesapeake  and  Ohio, 

[3] 


Walks  About    Washington 

connecting  Georgetown  with  a  bit  of  farming  country 
west  of  it,  and  had  planned  one  from  Alexandria  which 
should  form  part  of  the  same  system.  During  his 
activities  on  the  Maryland  side  of  the  river,  he  made 
his  headquarters  in  a  little  stone  house  in  Georgetown 
which  is  still  standing. 

It  took  time  and  diplomacy  to  induce  some  of  the 
local  landholders  to  part  with  their  acres  to  the  Com- 
missioners. There  is  an  old  story,  good  enough  to 
be  true,  of  one  David  Burns,  a  canny  Scot,  who  held 
out  so  long  that  President  Washington  personally 
undertook  his  conversion.  After  pointing  out  to  the 
farmer  what  advantages  he  would  reap  from  having 
the  Government  for  a  neighbor,  the  great  man  con- 
cluded : 

"But  for  this  opportunity,  Mr.  Burns,  you  might 
have  died   a  poor  tobacco-planter." 

"Aye,  mon,"  snapped  Burns,  "an'  had  ye  no  married 
the  widder  Custis,  wi'  all  her  nagurs,  ye'd  ha'  been  a 
land  surveyor  the  noo,  an'  a  mighty  poor  ane  at  that !" 

However,  when  he  learned  that,  unless  he  accepted 
the  liberal  terms  offered  him,  his  land  would  be  con- 
demned and  seized  at  an  appraisal  probably  much 
lower,  Burns  met  the  President  in  quite  another  mood, 
and  to  the  final  question,  "Well,  sir,  what  have  you 
concluded  to  do  ?"  astonished  every  one  by  his  prompt 

[4] 


A   Capital  Made   to    Order 

response:  "Whate'er  your  excellency  wad  ha'  me." 
On  one  of  his  fields  now  stands  the  White  House,  and 
an  adjacent  lot  became  Lafayette  Square.  By  the 
sale  of  property  adjoining  that  which  the  Government 
bought,  he  amassed  what  for  those  days  was  an  enor- 
mous fortune.  It  is  within  our  generation  that  his 
cottage  was  torn  down  for  the  improvement  of  the 
neighborhood  from  which  we  enter  Potomac  Park. 
Although  a  poor  building  in  its  old  age,  in  its  prime  it 
had  sheltered  many  eminent  men.  Among  them  was 
Tom  Moore,  the  Irish  poet,  who  was  under  its  roof 
when   he  wrote  his   diatribe   against  — 

"  This  fam'd  metropolis  where  Fancy  sees 
Squares  in  morasses,  obelisks  in  trees ; 
Which  second-sighted  seers,  ev'n  now,  adorn    ^ 
With  shrines  unbuilt  and  heroes  yet  unborn." 

Little  as  we  may  relish  such  satire,  we  are  bound 
to  admit  its  modicum  of  truthfulness,  for  the  brave 
souls  who  founded  Washington  were  given  to  the 
grandiloquent  habit  of  their  day.  They  had  called 
to  their  aid  Major  Pierre  Charles  L'Enfant,  a  French 
military  engineer  who  had  served  in  the  patriot  army 
of  the  Revolution,  and  who  cherished  brilliant  dreams 
of  the  future  of  his  adopted  country.  To  him  they  had 
committed  the  preparation  of  a  plan  for  the  federal 
city,   and  he  had  laid  it  out  on  the  lines,  not  of  an 

[5] 


W^alks   About    Washington 

administrative  center  for  a  handful  of  newly  enfran- 
chised colonies,  but  of  a  capital  for  a  republic  of  fifty 
States  with  five  hundred  million  population.  As  he 
had  lived  in  Versailles,  he  is  supposed  to  have  taken 
that  town  as  a  general  model  in  his  arrangement  of 
streets  and  avenues,  which  some  one  has  likened  to 
"^"a  wheel  laid  on  a  gridiron." 

Of  course,  it  was  the  business  of  the  Commissioners 
to  advertise  the  attractions  of  the  federal  city  as  effec- 
tively as  possible,  to  promote  its  early  settlement ; 
so  perhaps  we  may  forgive  their  taking  a  good  deal  for 
granted,  and  permitting  real  estate  speculation  to  go 
practically  unchecked.  Congress  for  several  years  ig- 
nored their  appeals  for  an  appropriation  for  the  devel- 
opment of  the  city,  and  in  the  interval  their  chief 
dependence  for  the  funds  necessary  to  spend  for  high- 
ways and  buildings  was  on  the  sale  of  lots,  and  on 
grants  or  loans  obtained  from  neighboring  States.  The 
most  sightly  hill  was  set  apart  for  the  Capitol,  and  a 
beautiful  bit  of  rising  ground,  overlooking  a  bend  in  the 
river,  for  the  President's  House.  The  two  buildings 
had  their  corner-stones  laid  with  much  ceremony,  but 
progress  on  them  was  slow.  Nevertheless,  their  sites, 
as  well  as  the  spaces  reserved  in  L'Enfant's  plan  for 
parks,  fountains,  and  statuary,  were  always  treated 
by  the  speculators,  in  correspondence  with  prospective 

[6] 


A   Capital  Made  to    Order 

customers,  as  if  the  improvements  designed  eventually 
to  crown  them  were  already  installed.  The  outside 
public  manifested  no  undue  eagerness  to  buy,  and  the 
auction  sales  of  lots  proved  very  disappointing.  Then 
a  lottery  was  organized,  with  tickets  at  seven  dollars 
apiece,  and  for  a  first  prize  "a  superb  hotel"  with 
baths  and  other  comforts,  worth  fifty  thousand  dollars  ; 
but  that,  too,  fell  short  of  expectations,  all  the  desir- 
able prizes  going  to  persons  who  felt  no  concern  for 
the  city's  future,  and  the  hotel,  though  started, 
never  being  finished.  It  was  a  pretty  discouraging 
prospect,  therefore,  which  confronted  the  officers  of  the 
Government  when,  on  May  i6,  1800,  President  John 
Adams  issued  his  order  for  their  removal  from  their 
cozy  quarters  in  old  Philadelphia  to  what  seemed 
to  them,  by  contrast,  like  a  camp  in  the  wilderness. 

The  six  Cabinet  members,  with  their  one  hundred 
and  thirty-two  subordinates,  made  the  journey  over- 
land at  various  dates  during  the  summer,  and  in  Oc- 
tober the  archives  followed.  These  filled  about  a 
dozen  large  boxes,  which,  with  the  office  furniture, 
were  brought  down  by  sea  in  a  packet-boat  and  landed 
on  a  wharf  at  the  mouth  of  Tiber  Creek,  a  tributary 
of  the  Potomac  which  then  ran  through  the  city  but 
was  later  converted  into  a  sewer.  All  Washington, 
numbering  perhaps  three  thousand  persons,  turned  out 

[7] 


JValks  About    Washington 

to  greet  the  vessel ;  and  amid  cheers,  ringing  of  bells, 
and  blasts  from  an  antique  cannon  brought  forth  for 
the  occasion,  its  precious  contents  were  carried  ashore. 
"The  Department  buildings"  to  which  they  were 
consigned  were  a  wonderful  assortment.  The  Treas- 
ury was  a  two-story  brick  house  at  the  southeast  corner 
of  the  President's  grounds,  the  War  Office  a  still  un- 
finished replica  of  it  at  the  southwest  corner.  The 
Post-office  Department  found  shelter  in  a  private 
house  in  which  only  half  the  floors  were  laid  and  four 
rooms  plastered ;  while  the  Secretary  of  State,  the 
Secretary  of  the  Navy,  and  the  Attorney-general  had  to 
direct  their  affairs  from  their  lodgings.  All  these  tem- 
porary accommodations  were  sought  as  near  as  possible 
to  the  President's  House.  Congress  had  striven,  for 
its  greater  ease  of  access,  to  have  the  Departments 
quartered  near  the  Capitol ;  but  Washington  had  set 
his  face  resolutely  against  every  such  proposal,  citing 
the  experience  of  his  own  secretaries,  who  had  been  so 
pestered  with  needless  visits  from  Senators  and  Repre- 
sentatives that  some  of  them  "had  been  obliged  to 
go  home  and  deny  themselves,  in  order  to  transact 
current  business."  Which  shows  that  one  modern  nui- 
sance has  a  fairly  ancient  precedent. 

Members  of  both  houses  of  Congress  came  straggling 
in  all  through  the  first  three  weeks  of  November,  to 

[8] 


General  Washington  s  Office  in  Georgetown 


w . 


1        -3  t>*ii^i^*i^i^ 

I  )   >         J  3      1 


« 


I 


I 


A   Capital  Made  to    Order 

find  most  of  the  best  rooms  in  the  two  or  three  hotels 
and  the  little  cluster  of  boarding-houses  already  occu- 
pied by  the  executive  functionaries  and  their  families. 
President  Adams,  who  had  preceded  them  by  a  few 
weeks,  was  not  much  better  off  even  in  the  official 
abode  reserved  for  him,  if  we  may  call  his  wife  as  a 
witness. 

"The  house  Is  on  a  grand  and  superb  scale,"  she 
wrote  to  her  daughter,  "requiring  about  thirty  serv- 
ants to  attend  and  keep  the  apartments  in  proper 
order,  and  perform  the  ordinary  business  of  the  house 
and  stables.  The  lighting  the  apartments,  from  the 
kitchen  to  the  parlor  and  chambers,  is  a  tax  indeed; 
and  the  fires  we  are  obliged  to  keep,  to  secure  us  from 
daily  agues,  is  another  very  cheering  comfort.  Bells 
are  wholly  wanting,  not  one  single  one  being  hung 
through  the  whole  house,  and  promises  are  all  you  can 
obtain.  I  could  content  myself  almost  anywhere  three 
months ;  but  surrounded  by  forests,  can  you  believe 
that  wood  is  not  to  be  had,  because  people  cannot  be 
found  to  cut  and  cart  it !  There  is  not  a  single  apart- 
ment finished.  We  have  not  the  least  fence  or  yard, 
or  other  convenience  without ;  and  the  great  unfin- 
ished audience-room  I  make  a  drying-room  of,  to  hang 
up  the  clothes  in.  The  principal  stairs  are  not  up, 
and  will  not  be  this  winter.     The  ladies  are  impatient 

[9] 


Walks  About    Washington 

for  a  drawing-room ;  I  have  no  looking-glasses  but 
dwarfs  for  this  house,  not  a  twentieth  part  lamps 
enough  to  light  it." 

Mrs.  Adams's  consolatory  reflection  that  she  would 
have  to  endure  these  conditions  only  three  months, 
was  probably  shared  by  many  of  the  thirty-two  Sen- 
ators and  one  hundred  and  five  Representatives  who, 
on  the  high  hill  to  the  east,  shivered  and  shook  and 
passed  unflattering  criticisms  on  everybody  who  had 
had  a  hand  in  the  construction  of  the  Capitol.  Only 
the  old  north  wing  was  in  condition  for  use,  and  not 
all  of  that.  The  Senate  met  in  what  is  now  the  Su- 
preme Court  chamber ;  the  House  took  its  chances 
wherever  there  was  room,  ending  its  travels  in  an 
uncomfortable  box  of  a  hall  commonly  styled  "the 
oven."  Most  of  the  members  had  made  some  study 
of  the  L'Enfant  chart  before  coming  to  Washington. 
One  of  them  put  into  writing  his  impressions  as  he 
looked  about  and  tried  to  identify  the  public  im- 
provements he  had  been  led  to  expect.  None  of  the 
streets  was  recognizable,  he  said,  with  the  possible 
exception  of  a  road  having  two  buildings  on  each  side 
of  it,  which  was  called  New  Jersey  Avenue.  The 
"magnificent  Pennsylvania  Avenue,"  connecting  the 
Capitol  with  the  President's  House,  was  for  nearly  the 
entire  distance  a  deep  morass  covered  with  wild  bushes, 

[10] 


A  Capital  Made  to    Order 

through  which  a  passage  had  been  hewn.  The  roads 
in  every  direction  were  muddy  and  unimproved.  The 
only  attempt  at  a  sidewalk  had  been  made  with  chips 
of  stone  left  from  building  the  Capitol,  and  this  was 
little  used  because  the  sharp  edges  cut  the  walker's 
shoes  in  dry  weather,  and  in  wet  weather  covered  them 
with  white  mortar.  Another  member  declared  that 
there  was  nothing  in  sight  in  Washington  but  scrub 
oak,  and  that,  since  there  was  "only  one  good  tavern 
within  a  day's  march,"  many  members  had  to  live  in 
Georgetown  and  drive  to  and  from  the  daily  sessions 
of  Congress  in  a  rickety  coach.  And  a  particularly 
disgusted  critic,  not  content  with  recording  that 
"there  are  but  few  houses  in  any  place,  and  most  of 
them  are  small,  miserable  huts,"  added:  "The  people 
are  poor,  and,  as  far  as  I  can  judge,  live  like  fishes, 
by  eating  each  other." 

Newspapers  in  all  parts  of  the  country  echoed  these 
depressing  reports,  accompanying  them  with  demands 
that  the  Government  move  again,  this  time  to  some 
already  well-populated  and  civilized  region.  Indeed, 
of  several  resolutions  to  that  end  introduced  in  Con- 
gress, one  was  actually  carried  to  a  vote  and  barely 
escaped  passage.  It  may  have  been  this  accumulation 
of  discouraging  elements  which  caused  the  delay  in  the 
arrival   of  the   Supreme  Court  from  Philadelphia ;  or 

[n] 


Walks  About    Washington 

it  may  have  been  the  paucity  of  business  before  that 
tribunal,  whose  first  Chief  Justice,  John  Jay,  had 
resigned  his  commission  to  become  Governor  of  New 
York,  because  he  had  come  to  the  conclusion  that  the 
Court  could  not  command  sufficient  support  in  the 
country  at  large  to  enforce  its  decisions  !  Whatever 
the  reason,  the  Justices  did  not  find  their  way  to  Wash- 
ington till  well  on  in  the  winter,  or  open  their  work  there 
till  February.  They  were  assigned  the  room  in  the 
basement  of  the  Capitol  now  occupied  by  the  Supreme 
Court  library. 

Even  when  the  first  acute  discomforts  incident  to 
removal  had  passed  away,  the  general  depression  was 
little  relieved.  Most  of  the  earlier  citizens  of  Wash- 
ington had  entertained  hopes  of  its  becoming  a  com- 
mercial as  well  as  a  political  center  of  importance. 
They  reasoned  that  since  Alexandria  and  Georgetown 
had  already  built  up  some  trade  with  the  outside  world, 
Washington,  much  more  eligibly  situated  than  either, 
ought  to  attract  a  correspondingly  larger  measure  of 
profitable  business.  But  all  these  bright  anticipa- 
tions were  doomed  to  disappointment  :  the  progress 
of  the  city  was  as  inconsiderable  as  if  its  feet  had  be- 
come mired  in  one  of  its  own  marshes.  The  Mall, 
which  on  L'Enfant's  map  appeared  as  a  boulevard 
fringed  with  fine  public  buildings,   soon   degenerated 

[12] 


A   Capital  Made  to    Order 

into  a  common  for  pasturing  cows.  There  was  good 
fishing  above  the  north  side  of  Pennsylvania  Avenue 
from  Sixth  Street  to  Thirteenth.  Wild  ducks  found 
a  favorite  haunt  where  the  Center  Market  now  stands. 
The  whole  place  wore  an  air  of  suspended  vitality  in 
striking  contrast  with  the  generous  face  of  nature. 
"  I  am, "  wrote  a  visiting  New  Yorker  to  his  wife, 
"almost  enchanted  with  it  —  I  mean  the  situation 
for  a  city,  for  there  is  nothing  here  yet  constituting 
one.  As  to  houses,  there  are  very  few,  and  those 
very  scattering ;  and  as  to  streets,  there  are  none, 
except  you  would  call  common  roads  streets.  The 
site,  however,  for  a  city,  is  the  most  delightful  that  can 
be  imagined  —  far  beyond  my  expectation. 

"  I  took  a  hack  after  dinner  to  visit  Nath'l  Maxwell, 
and  although  he  lives  near  the  center  of  the  great  city, 
yet  such  was  the  state  of  the  roads  that  I  considered 
my  life  in  danger.  The  distance  on  straight  lines  does 
not  exceed  half  a  mile,  but  I  had  to  ride  up  and  down 
very  steep  hills,  with  frightful  gullies  on  almost  every 
side."  And  the  simplicity  of  life  at  the  capital  then  is 
reflected  in  his  statement  that  after  finishing  his  letters 
one  night  he  was  afraid  to  go  out  to  post  them  lest  he 
lose  his  way  in  the  dark,  though  he  knew  that  the  mail 
would  close  at  five  in  the  morning.  "After  I  had  got 
comfortably   into   bed,"  he    continued,  "a    watchman 

[131 


Walks  About    Washington 

came  past  my  window  bawling  out,  'Past  one  o'clock, 
and  a  very  stormy  night,'  on  which  I  sprang  out  of 
bed  and  called  to  him  to  take  my  letters  to  the  post- 
office,  which  he  consented  to  do.  I  accordingly 
wrapped  them  in  a  sheet  of  paper  to  protect  them  from 
the  wet,  and  threw  them  out  of  the  chamber  window 
to  him." 

The  declaration  of  war  against  Great  Britain  in 
June,  1 812,  for  which  the  country  at  large  held  Presi- 
dent Madison  chiefly  responsible,  and  which  reduced 
considerably  such  measure  of  popularity  as  he  still 
retained,  did  not  produce  much  effect  on  the  pulses  of 
the  stagnant  city.  The  first  hostilities  occurred  in 
the  north  and  on  the  sea ;  and,  although  the  enemy 
threatened  Washington  for  more  than  a  year,  Madison 
and  most  of  his  advisers  regarded  an  attack  as  highly 
improbable.  When,  however,  it  became  known  in 
1814  that  a  large  body  of  Wellington's  veterans  were 
setting  sail  from  England,  under  convoy  of  a  powerful 
fleet,  for  the  mouth  of  Chesapeake  Bay,  every  one  sud- 
denly awoke  to  the  impending  peril.  It  was  then  too 
late.  Thanks  to  the  mis  judgment  of  General  Arm- 
strong, Secretary  of  War,  or  General  Winder,  who  was 
in  charge  of  military  affairs  in  the  District,  midsummer 
found  the  enemy  in  Maryland,  but  the  city  still  with- 
out an  efficient  defensive  force,  or  ammunition  or  pro- 

[14] 


A  Capital  Made  to    Order 

visions  to  equip  one  properly.  Hurried  eflforts  brought 
together  a  first  line  of  thirty-one  hundred  men,  all 
raw  recruits  except  six  hundred  sailors  and  a  couple 
of  hundred  soldiers.  A  second  line,  almost  equal  in 
number,  was  formed,  mostly  of  militia,  and  disposed 
for  use  as  a  home  guard.  At  Bladensburg,  Maryland, 
five  miles  north  of  Washington,  the  decisive  battle 
occurred  on  the  twenty-fourth  of  August,  from  which 
the  seamen  led  by  Captain  Joshua  Barney  were  the 
only  contingent  that  emerged  with  extraordinary 
credit ;  but  they  did  so  well  that  a  grateful  commu- 
nity has  not  yet  raised  a  monument  to  them  or  their 
leader.  The  battlefield  was  close  enough  to  the  old 
George  Washington  tavern,  of  which  Mr.  Hornby  gives 
us  an  intimate  glimpse,  for  the  occupants  to  hear  the 
rattle  of  musketry  and  see  the  cannon-smoke  from 
the  upper  windows. 

The  outcome  of  the  fight  was  that  the  British  com- 
manders. General  Ross  and  Admiral  Cockburn,  with 
six  thousand  men,  drove  the  Americans  back  and 
swept  down  upon  the  city,  spreading  ruin  in  their  track. 
Ross  had  his  horse  killed  under  him  by  a  shot  from  a 
private  house  he  was  passing  and  kept  more  in  the 
background  thereafter,  but  Cockburn  was  active  in 
the  work  of  devastation.  Tradition  describes  him  as 
mounting  the  Speaker's  dais  in  the  Hall  of  Represen- 

[IS] 


Walks   About    Washington 

tatives,  calling  a  burlesque  session  of  Congress  to  order, 
and  putting  the  question:  "Shall  this  harbor  of  Yan- 
kee democracy  be  burned  ?  All  in  favor  will  say, 
'Aye'!"  There  was  a  roar  of  "Ayes"  from  the  men, 
who  at  once  set  going  a  mammoth  bonfire  of  written 
records  and  volumes  from  the  library  of  Congress,  and 
soon  the  whole  Capitol  was  wrapped  in  flames.  Thence 
the  party  proceeded  to  the  other  public  buildings, 
burning  whatever  was  recognizable  as  the  property  of 
the  Government.  Their  progress  was  nearly  every- 
where unopposed,  the  clerks  in  charge  having  gathered 
up  such  books  and  papers  as  they  could  carry  away, 
and  transported  them  to  the  most  convenient  hiding- 
places. 

The  first  break  in  this  program  occurred  at  the  Pat- 
ent Office,  which  was  under  the  superintendency  of 
Doctor  William  Thornton,  himself  of  English  birth. 
A  neighbor  having  warned  him  at  his  home  that  his 
office  was  in  danger,  he  mounted  his  horse  and  gal- 
loped to  the  spot,  where  he  arrived  just  in  time  to 
see  a  squad  of  soldiers  training  a  field-piece  upon  the 
building.  Leaping  from  the  saddle  and  dramatically 
covering  the  muzzle  of  the  gun  with  his  body,  he  re- 
minded the  artillerists  that  the  inventions  they  pur- 
posed destroying  were  monuments  of  human  progress 
which    belonged    to    the    whole    civilized    world,    and 

[i61 


A  Capital  Made  to    Order 

denounced  such  vandalism  as  a  disgrace  to  the  British 
uniform.  His  boldness  had  its  effect,  and  the  Patent 
Office  was  spared.  Another  check  came,  in  the  form 
of  an  accident  of  poetic  justice,  at  Greenleaf's  Point, 
the  present  site  of  the  Army  War  College.  This  place 
had  been  used  as  an  arsenal  by  the  defenders  of  the  city, 
who,  before  deserting  it,  had  secreted  all  their  surplus 
gunpowder  in  a  dry  well  in  the  midst  of  the  grounds. 
A  body  of  British  troops  undertook  to  destroy  the 
American  cannon  they  found  there  by  firing  one  gun 
directly  into  another,  when  a  fragment  of  burning 
wadding  was  blown  into  the  well,  causing  an  explosion 
that  killed  twelve  and  wounded  more  than  thirty  of 
the  party. 

President  Madison,  who  had  been  at  Bladensburg 
personally  superintending  the  placing  of  our  troops, 
hastened  southward  when  the  rout  began,  and  took 
refuge  among  the  hills  of  northern  Virginia.  There 
he  was  presently  joined  by  his  wife,  and  both  remained 
in  seclusion  till  they  received  word  that  the  British 
had  marched  away.  This  message  was  preceded  by 
the  news  that  the  President's  House  had  been  burned, 
with  all  its  contents  except  a  few  portable  articles 
which  could  be  gathered  and  put  out  of  harm's  reach 
at  an  hour's  notice.  The  property  destroyed  with 
absolute    wantonness    in    various    parts    of    the    city 

[17] 


Walks   About    Washington 

aggregated  in  value  between  two  and  three  million 
dollars  —  a  heavy  loss  for  a  government  which  was 
just  managing  to  stagger  along  with  its  legitimate 
burdens,  and  in  a  capital  that  could  barely  be  kept 
from  collapse  under  the  most  favoring  conditions.  It 
is  not  wonderful  that  the  British  press  was  almost  a 
unit  in  condemning  Cockburn's  vandalism,  the  Lon- 
don Statesman  saying:  "Willingly  would  we  throw  a 
veil  of  oblivion  over  the  transactions  at  Washington ; 
the  Cossacks  spared  Paris,  but  we  spared  not  the  capi- 
tal of  America!"  And  the  Annual  Register:  "The 
extent  of  the  devastation  practised  by  the  victors 
brought  a  heavy  censure  upon  the  British  character, 
not  only  in  America,  but  on  the  Continent  of  Europe." 
The  restoration  of  the  President's  House  alone,  in- 
cluding the  repainting  of  its  outside  surface  to  remove 
the  scars  of  the  fire,  consumed  four  years,  in  the  course 
of  which  President  Madison  made  way  for  his  suc- 
cessor, Monroe,  and  the  building  had  fastened  to  it, 
from  its  freshened  color,  the  title  it  has  worn  in  popu- 
lar speech  from  that  day  to  this. 

It  was  a  sorry-looking  Washington  to  which  the 
Madisons  came  back.  Blackened  ruins  were  every- 
where ;  placards  posted  here  and  there  denounced 
the  President  as  the  author  of  the  city's  misfortunes  ; 
mournful  streams  of  women,   children,  old  men,   and 

[i8] 


George  Washington  Tavern,  Bladensburg 


1       )    )       )     »    >        > 
'     J    '  _  »   1     »    1 


,i 


I 


>  A  Capital  Made  to    0?^der 

shamefaced  stragglers  from  the  defensive  force,  trickled 
in  from  the  woods  in  the  suburban  country  where  they 
had  been  hiding  since  the  battle ;  the  streets  were 
strewn  with  the  wreckage  of  a  cyclone  which  had  swept 
the  valley  almost  simultaneously  with  the  hostile 
troops,  unroofing  houses,  uprooting  trees,  demolish- 
ing chimneys,  and  generally  supplementing  the  disas- 
ters of  warfare.  Indeed,  almost  the  only  potentiality 
of  evil  that  had  not  come  to  pass  was  an  uprising  of 
the  slaves,  which  had  been  widely  feared,  as  some  of 
the  restless  spirits  among  them  had  been  overheard 
counseling  their  fellows  to  join  the  British  in  looting 
the  city  and  then  make  a  break  for  freedom.  The 
Madisons,  after  a  brief  visit  with  friends,  rented  the 
Octagon  house  at  the  corner  of  New  York  Avenue 
and  Eighteenth  Street,  now  the  headquarters  of  the 
American  Institute  of  Architects.  It  was  here  that 
President  Madison  signed  the  treaty  of  Ghent,  bind- 
ing Great  Britain  and  the  United  States  to  a  peace 
which  has  remained  for  a  whole  century  unbroken. 
Here,  too,  Dolly  Madison  held  her  republican  court, 
the  most  famous  since  Martha  Washington's  in  New 
York,  and  far  eclipsing  that  in  splendor. 

To  provide  a  meeting-place  for  Congress  till  the 
Capitol  could  be  occupied  once  more,  a  building  which 
stood  at  the  corner  of  F  and  Seventh  Streets  was  made 

[19] 


Walks  About    Washington 

over  for  the  purpose.  It  proved  so  uncomfortable, 
however,  as  to  revive  with  increased  zest  the  discus- 
sion whether,  in  view  of  the  spread  of  population 
through  the  newly  opened  West,  it  would  not  be  wiser 
to  remove  the  seat  of  government  to  some  fairly  acces- 
sible point  in  that  part  of  the  country.  The  agitation 
alarmed  the  more  important  property-owners  in  Wash- 
ington, who,  in  order  to  head  it  off  before  it  had  gone 
too  far,  hastily  organized  a  company  to  put  up  a  tem- 
porary but  better  equipped  substitute  for  the  Capitol. 
They  chose  a  site  a  few  hundred  yards  to  the  eastward 
of  the  burned  edifice,  and  there  built  a  long  house  which 
is  still  standing,  though  now  divided  into  dwellings. 
The  stratagem  accomplished  its  aim,  and  Congress 
stayed  in  its  improvised  domicile  till  1819.  This 
occupancy  gave  the  building  the  title,  "the  Old  Capi- 
tol," that  clings  to  it  to-day  in  spite  of  the  changes  it 
has  undergone  in  the  interval. 

Washington  was  early  supplied  with  a  good  general 
newspaper  in  the  National  Intelligencer^  and  the  social 
side  of  life  presently  found  a  weekly  interpreter  in  The 
Huntress,  edited  by  Mrs.  Ann  Royall,  whose  person- 
ality was  so  aggressive  that  John  Quincy  Adams  de- 
scribed her  as  going  about  "like  a  virago-errant  in 
enchanted  armor."  She  said  so  much,  also,  in  dis- 
paragement of  some  of  her  neighbors,   that  she  was 

[20] 


A  Capital  Made  to    Order 

indicted  by  the  grand  jury  as  a  common  scold  and 
threatened  with  a  ducking  in  accordance  with  an  old 
English  law  in  force  in  the  District.  But  the  dissemi- 
nators of  information  to  whose  coming  the  citizens 
looked  forward  more  eagerly  than  to  any  printed 
sheet,  were  two  men  who  made  their  rounds  daily  on 
horseback  among  the  homes  of  the  well-to-do.  One 
was  the  postman,  delivering  the  mails  that  came  in 
by  stage-coach  from  the  outer  world ;  the  other  was 
the  barber,  who,  like  an  endless-chain  letter,  picked  up 
the  latest  gossip  at  every  house  he  visited,  and  left  in 
exchange  all  the  items  he  had  picked  up  at  previous 
stopping-places. 

During  the  next  generation  Washington  saw,  it  is 
safe  to  say,  more  of  the  ups  and  downs  of  fortune  than 
any  other  American  city.  The  reasons  were  mani- 
fold. For  one  thing,  the  larger  part  of  its  population 
consisted  of  persons  whose  permanent  ties  were  else- 
where. As  federal  officeholders  they  were  residents 
of  Washington,  but  they  retained  their  citizenship  in 
the  places  from  which  they  had  been  drawn.  Under 
the  Constitution,  moreover.  Congress  exercised  su- 
preme authority  in  the  District  of  Columbia,  and 
every  member  of  Congress  had  the  interests  of  his 
home  constituency  more  at  heart  than  those  of  the 
people  who  were  his  neighbors  for  only  a  few  months 

[21] 


Walks   About    Washington 

at  a  time.  Nevertheless,  the  population  of  the  capital, 
which,  when  it  rose  from  its  ashes,  numbered  between 
eight  and  nine  thousand,  more  than  doubled  within 
the  next  twenty  years.  Then  came  ten  years  of  great 
uncertainty,  during  which  occurred  the  overwhelming 
business  panic  of  1837,  that  set  awry  nearly  everything 
in  America,  and  for  this  period  the  increase  averaged 
only  about  five  hundred  souls  annually.  But  another 
twenty  years  of  forward  movement  brought  the  total 
up  to  a  little  more  than  sixty  thousand. 

In  the  meantime  many  things  had  happened,  cal- 
culated to  attract  public  attention  generally  to  Wash- 
ington. President  Monroe  had  proclaimed  his  famous 
doctrine,  warning  Europe  to  keep  its  hands  off  this 
hemisphere.  President  Jackson  had  made  his  fight 
upon  the  United  States  Bank  and  won  it,  changing 
the  whole  financial  outlook  of  the  country.  The 
Capitol  had  been  enlarged,  and  several  new  Govern- 
ment buildings  started ;  the  Smithsonian  Institution 
had  begun  to  make  its  mark  in  the  scientific  world, 
and  the  Washington  Monument  had  risen  nearly  two 
hundred  feet  into  the  air.  The  long-threatened  war 
with  Mexico  had  come  and  gone,  adding  a  rich  area 
to  our  public  domain.  Steamships  had  crowded  sail- 
ing vessels  off  the  highways  of  commerce  and  become 
the  main  dependence  of  the  Yankee  navy.     The  Bal- 

[22] 


A  Capital  Made  to    Order 

timore  and  Ohio  Railway,  the  first  successful  experi- 
ment in  its  field,  had  brought  what  we  now  call  the 
Middle  West,  with  its  grain  and  minerals,  to  within 
a  day's  journey  of  the  capital,  and  this  pioneer  enter- 
prise had  been  followed  by  the  opening  of  other  rail 
facilities.  The  Fugitive  Slave  Law  and  the  Kansas- 
Nebraska  Act  had  been  passed,  slavery  had  been 
abolished  in  the  District  of  Columbia,  the  Underground 
Railroad  had  begun  to  haul  its  daily  consignment  of 
runaway  negroes  across  the  Canada  border,  the  Su- 
preme Court  had  rendered  the  Dred  Scott  decision, 
and  John  Brown  had  led  his  raid  in  the  mountain 
country  scarcely  fifty  miles  from  where  the  Court 
was  sitting.  Letter  postage,  anywhere  east  of  the 
Mississippi  River,  had  come  down  to  a  three-cent  unit. 
The  first  telegraph  message  had  been  transmitted  over 
a  wire  connecting  Baltimore  with  Washington,  and 
out  of  this  small  beginning  had  presently  been  devel- 
oped a  network  of  electric  communication  covering  all 
our  more  thickly  populated  territory ;  while  experi- 
menters with  a  submarine  line  had  effected  an  exchange 
of  messages  between  England  and  the  United  States 
which  proved  the  practicability  of  their  enterprise.  Last 
but  not  least,  royalty  had  smiled  upon  us  in  the  person 
of  the  Prince  of  Wales,  who  had  passed  some  days  as 
the  guest  of  President  Buchanan  at  the  White  House. 

[23] 


Walks   About    Washington 

Had  Washington  been  situated  elsewhere  than  on 
the  border  line  between  two  sections,  neither  of  which 
felt  any  pride  in  its  success,  or  had  it  been  governed  by 
executives  whose  records  were  to  be  made  or  marred 
by  the  faithfulness  with  which  they  turned  every  op- 
portunity to  account  for  its  welfare  and  reputation, 
we  should  probably  have  seen  the  capital  beginning 
then  its  career  as  the  model  city  of  the  new  world. 
Instead,  the  dependence  of  its  people,  at  every  stage,  on 
the  favor  of  what  was  practically  an  alien  governing 
body,  bore  natural  fruit  in  a  feeble  community  spirit. 

By  i860  Washington  had  reached  the  middle  of  its 
Slough  of  Despond,  Not  a  street  was  paved  except 
for  a  patch  here  and  there,  and  Pennsylvania  Avenue 
was  the  only  one  lighted  after  nightfall.  Pigs  roamed 
through  the  less  pretentious  highways  as  freely  as 
dogs.  There  was  not  a  sewer  anywhere,  a  shallow, 
uncovered  stream  carrying  off  the  common  refuse  to 
the  Potomac,  which  was  held  in  its  channel  only  by 
raw  earthen  bluffs.  Wells  and  springs  furnished  all 
the  water,  and  the  police  and  fire  departments  were 
those  of  a  village.  The  open  squares,  intended  for 
beauty  spots,  were  densely  overgrown  with  weeds. 
Except  for  an  omnibus  line  to  Georgetown,  not  a  pub- 
lic conveyance  was  running.  Such  permanent  Depart- 
ment buildings  as  had  been  started,  though  ambitious 

[24] 


A   Capital  Made  to    Order 

in  design  and  suggesting  by  their  outlines  a  desire 
for  something  better  than  had  yet  been  accompHshed, 
had  not  reached  a  habitable  state.  The  Capitol  was 
in  disorder,  and  still  overrun  with  workmen  who  had 
been  employed  in  constructing  the  new  wings  and  were 
preparing  to  raise  the  dome ;  the  White  House  had 
scarcely  a  fitter  look,  with  its  environment  of  stables 
and  shambling  fences  and  its  unkempt  grounds. 

Nor  was  there  any  prospect  of  speedy  improvement 
in  municipal  conditions.  Every  considerable  stride 
in  that  direction  would  mean  largely  increased  taxa- 
tion, and  the  bulk  of  the  taxable  property  had  drifted 
into  the  hands  of  unprogressive  whites  and  ignorant 
negroes,  who  were  equally  unwilling  to  pay  the  price. 
Upon  this  seemingly  hopeless  chaos  descended  the 
cloud  of  civil  war. 

It  was  a  black  cloud,  but  it  had  a  sunlit  lining. 


[25] 


CHAPTER  II 
WAR  TIMES   AND   THEIR   SEQUEL 

THREE  days  after  John  Brown  had  been  hanged 
for  his  Harper's  Ferry  raid,  the  Thirty-sixth 
Congress  convened.  Brown's  exploit  had  sent  a  wave 
of  excitement  sweeping  over  the  country,  and  the 
slavery  controversy  had  entered  a  phase  of  emotional 
acuteness  it  had  never  known  before.  There  was  a 
strong  Republican  plurality  in  the  new  House  of  Repre- 
sentatives, but  it  was  by  no  means  of  one  mind,  most 
of  its  members  still  hoping  to  avoid  any  action  which 
might  precipitate  a  dismemberment  of  the  Union. 
It  took  forty-four  ballots,  covering  a  period  of  eight 
weeks,  for  a  combination  of  Republicans  with  a  few 
outsiders  to  choose  a  Speaker,  and  the  wrangling  which 
preceded  and  followed  the  choice  reached  at  times  the 
verge  of  bloodshed.  A  large  majority  of  the  Repre- 
sentatives from  both  Northern  and  Southern  constitu- 
encies attended  the  sessions  armed. 

Before  the  end  of  June,  i860,  four  Presidential  tickets 
were  in  the  field.     The  Republican  ticket  was  headed 

[26] 


War    Times   and  their   Sequel 

by  Abraham  Lincoln  of  Illinois,  the  Northern  Demo- 
cratic ticket  by  his  old  rival  in  State  politics,  Stephen 
A.  Douglas.  The  Southern  Democrats  had  nominated 
John  C.  Breckinridge  of  Kentucky,  then  Vice-president, 
and  what  was  left  of  the  Whig  party  had  united  with 
the  peacemakers  generally  in  naming  John  Bell  of 
Tennessee,  When  Lincoln  was  elected  in  November, 
every  one  knew  that  a  crisis  was  at  hand  ;  for,  although 
opposed  to  the  use  of  violence  for  the  extinction  of 
slavery,  he  disbelieved  utterly  in  the  system,  and  the 
radical  leaders  in  the  South  proceeded  at  once  with 
their  plans  for  divorcing  the  slave  States  from  the  free 
States. 

South  Carolina  led  the  actual  revolt  by  adopting 
an  ordinance  of  secession  and  withdrawing  her  dele- 
gation from  Congress.  Almost  simultaneously  she 
sent  three  commissioners  to  Washington,  "empowered 
to  treat  with  the  Government  of  the  United  States  for 
the  delivery  of  the  forts,  magazines,  lighthouses  and 
other  real  estate  within  the  limits  of  South  Carolina" 
to  the  State  authorities.  President  Buchanan,  fear- 
ing lest  any  discussion  with  them  might  be  construed 
as  a  recognition  of  their  claim  to  an  ambassadorial 
status,  referred  them  to  Congress,  which  met  the  diffi- 
culty at  the  threshold  by  turning  their  case  over  to 
a  special  committee,  with  the  result  that  their  demands 

[27l 


Walks   About    Washington 

were  disregarded.  The  committee,  however,  played  a 
pretty  important  part  in  the  activities  of  the  succeed- 
ing winter,  for  the  Union  men  in  its  membership 
organized  themselves  into  a  sort  of  subcommittee 
of  safety,  and  opened  confidential  channels  of  com- 
munication with  men  and  women  all  over  the  city 
who  were  in  a  position  to  tell  them  promptly  what  the 
enemies  of  the  Union  were  planning  to  do.  These 
secret  informers  included  all  classes  of  persons,  from 
domestic  servants  to  Cabinet  officers.  The  corre- 
spondence was  conducted  not  through  the  post-office, 
but  by  cipher  notes  hidden  in  out-of-the-wa};^  places, 
where  the  parties  for  whom  they  were  intended  could 
safely  look  for  them  after  nightfall. 

The  militia  and  fire  departments  of  the  District  of 
Columbia  were  modest  affairs  then,  but  their  members 
were  alert  to  the  growing  possibilities  of  trouble.  Some 
who  were  secession  sympathizers  formed  themselves 
into  rifle  clubs  and  drilled  privately  at  night ;  while 
the  Unionists  built  up  a  little  body  of  minutemen, 
who  elected  their  own  officers  and  secreted  stands  of 
arms  at  the  Capitol  and  other  convenient  points,  so 
that  they  could  respond  instantly,  wherever  they 
chanced  to  be,  to  a  summons  for  emergency  service. 
Day  after  day  brought  its  budget  of  news  from  the 
South,    saddening    or   thrilling.     Thomas    and    Floyd 

[28] 


If^ar    Times  aitd  their   Sequel 

quitted  the  Cabinet,  Dix  became  Secretary  of  the 
Treasury,  and  Holt  Secretary  of  War.  In  January, 
1861,  Alabama,  Florida,  Georgia,  'Louisiana,  and 
Mississippi  seceded,  seizing  all  the  forts,  vessels,  and 
other  Government  property  on  which  they  could  lay 
hands  ;  and  Dix  put  upon  the  wire  his  historic  despatch 
to  his  special  agent  at  New*  Orleans,  "If  any  one 
attempts  to  haul  down  the  American  flag,  shoot  him 
on  the  spot,"  but  it  was  intercepted  and  never  reached 
its  destination. 

February  witnessed  the  secession  of  Texas,  the 
election  of  Jefferson  Davis  as  President  and  Alexander 
H.  Stephens  as  Vice-president  of  the  Confederate 
States  of  America,  and  the  withdrawal  of  several 
Senators  and  Representatives  from  the  United  States 
Congress.  The  only  cheering  news  of  the  month  was 
the  refusal  of  Tennessee  and  Missouri  to  secede, 
though  both  States  contained  a  multitude  of  citizens 
who  would  have  preferred  to  do  so.  Daily  the  gal- 
leries of  Congress  were  crowded  with  spectators  repre- 
senting all  shades  of  opinion  and  at  times  uncontrol- 
lable in  their  expressions  of  approval  or  disapproval. 
When  the  House  voted  to  submit  a  Constitutional 
amendment  forbidding  the  interference  of  Congress 
with  slavery  or  any  other  State  institution,  one  ele- 
ment in  the  gallery  burst  into  deafening  applause ;  the 

[29] 


Walks   About    Washington 

opposing  element  in  the  Senate  became  equally  boister- 
ous in  applauding  a  speech  by  Andrew  Johnson,  de- 
nouncing as  a  traitor  any  man  who  should  fire  upon 
the  flag  or  conspire  to  take  over  Government  property 
for  the  Confederacy.  The  difference  in  the  treat- 
ment of  the  two  outbreaks  was  significant :  that  in 
the  House  was  merely  rebuked  in  words,  but  in  the 
Senate  the  gallery  was  cleared  and  closed  to  spectators 
for  the  rest  of  the  day. 

In  fairness  it  should  be  said  that  at  this  trying 
juncture  several  men  in  positions  of  responsibility, 
who  had  made  no  secret  of  their  interest  in  the  South- 
ern cause,  acted  the  honorable  part  when  put  to  the 
test.  Vice-president  Breckinridge  was  credited  by 
current  gossip  with  an  intention,  at  the  official  count 
of  the  electoral  vote,  to  refuse  to  declare  Lincoln 
elected,  or  permit  a  mob  to  break  up  the  session 
and  destroy  the  authenticated  returns.  On  the  con- 
trary, he  conducted  the  count  with  as  much  scrupu- 
lousness in  every  detail  as  if  his  heart  were  in  the 
result.  Equal  praise  is  due  to  the  chief  of  the  Capitol 
police,  who,  though  bitterly  hostile  to  Mr.  Lincoln, 
took  all  the  precautions  for  his  safety  on  the  day  of 
inauguration  that  his  best  friend  could  have  taken. 

Thus  the  Buchanan  administration  went  out,  and 
the  Lincoln  administration   came  in.     The  persistent 

[30] 


Octagon  House 


1  ■>      ■>    ',> 


)       I      ■         '         > 

a     1  '      >        > 

>   3    3      t  3,3 


U^ar    Times  and  their   Sequel 

warnings  of  a  plot  to  kill  or  kidnap  the  President-elect 
led  to  the  adoption  of  an  extraordinary  program  for 
bringing  him  safely  to  Washington.  Under  the  escort 
of  an  experienced  detective,  he  made  the  journey  from 
Harrisburg  at  high  speed,  in  a  special  train  provided 
by  the  Pennsylvania  Railroad  Company,  all  the  tracks 
having  been  previously  cleared,  and  the  telegraph 
wires  cut  along  the  route.  Meanwhile,  a  sensational 
newspaper  had  published  locally  a  story  that  Lincoln 
was  already  in  the  city,  having  been  smuggled  through 
Baltimore  in  disguise  in  order  to  elude  the  conspira- 
tors who  were  waiting  there  to  assassinate  him.  This 
fiction  so  incensed  William  H.  Seward,  who  had  been 
in  Washington  preparing  for  the  arrival  of  his  future 
chief,  that  Lincoln  was  not  allowed  to  make  a  toilet 
after  his  night's  journey,  but  was  hurried,  all  un- 
washed and  unshaven,  to  the  Capitol,  so  that  the 
members  of  Congress  could  see  him  and  satisfy  them- 
selves of  the  falsity  of  what  they  had  read. 

His  immunity  thus  far  did  not  quiet  the  apprehen- 
sions of  Lincoln's  friends,  who  took  especial  pains  to 
prevent  the  interruption  of  his  inauguration  at  any 
point.  A  temporary  fence  was  built  around  the  space 
immediately  in  front  of  the  platform  from  which  his 
address  was  to  be  delivered,  and  an  enclosed  alley 
of  boards  was   constructed  from  the  place  where  he 

[31] 


W^alks   About    IVashington 

his  eyes.  Then  he  bowed  to  Chief  Justice  Taney, 
who,  in  a  voice  tremulous  with  emotion,  administered 
the  oath  of  office. 
^  Within  six  weeks  thereafter  Fort  Sumter  had  been 
fired  upon,  and  the  new  President  had  issued  his  call 
for  seventy-five  thousand  volunteers  to  maintain  the 
laws  of  the  United  States,  and  summoned  Congress  to 
meet  in  extra  session  on  the  fourth  of  July.  Almost 
the  first  thing  the  Senate  did  when  it  came  together 
was  to  expel  six  of  its  members  who  had  cast  their 
fortunes  with  the  seceding  States.  Meanwhile,  Wash- 
ington had  been  transformed  from  an  outwardly 
peaceful  town  into  a  military  camp.  A  home  defense 
corps  was  hurriedly  enlisted  by  Cassius  M.  Clay  of 
Kentucky  and  James  H.  Lane  of  Kansas,  and  a  guard 
was  posted  around  the  White  House  every  night.  The 
minutemen  were  called  out  repeatedly  for  special 
service.  Once  they  seized  a  vessel  which  was  about  to 
sail  from  a  Potomac  wharf  for  a  southern  port,  laden 
with  munitions  of  war  alleged  to  have  been  stolen  from 
the  Government,  Again,  they  marched  to  George- 
town and  took  forcible  possession  of  the  flour  stored 
in  a  mill  there  and  reported  to  them  as  destined  for  the 
Confederate  army ;  this,  by  commandeering  all  the 
wagons  in  the  neighborhood,  they  removed  to  the 
Capitol  and  stowed  away  in  the  basement  rooms.     In 

[34] 


War    Times   and  their   Sequel 

the  streets,  all  strangers  were  eyed  with  suspicion. 
Signals  to  the  police,  the  home  defense  corps,  and  the 
minutemen  were  conveyed  by  certain  tollings  of  big 
bells  ;  and,  as  every  signal  meant  trouble  either  present 
or  imminent,  the  townspeople  lived  continually  as  if 
on  the  brink  of  a  volcano. 

Among  the  earliest  State  volunteers  to  reach  the 
city  were  regiments  from  Massachusetts,  New  York, 
and  Pennsylvania.  The  Massachusetts  Sixth,  which 
had  been  fired  on  by  a  mob  while  passing  through  Bal- 
timore, was  quartered  in  the  Hall  of  the  Senate,  and 
the  New  York  Seventh  in  the  Hall  of  Representatives  ; 
while  bivouacked  in  other  parts  of  the  same  building 
were  about  five  hundred  Pennsylvanians  and  a  com- 
pany of  United  States  artillery,  for  there  was  general 
expectation  of  a  Confederate  attack  upon  the  Capitol. 
The  New  York  Seventy-first  was  assigned  to  the 
Washington  Navy  Yard,  so  as  to  be  convenient  for 
repelling  approaches  from  Alexandria  by  way  of  the 
river. 

The  first  incident  of  the  war  in  which  Alexandria 
figured,  however,  was  not  a  foray  on  Washington 
but  a  tragedy  at  home.  Colonel  Ephraim  E.  Ells- 
worth, who  had  recruited  a  regiment  of  zouaves  from 
New  York  City,  came  to  Washington  at  its  head. 
He  was  young,   handsome,   soldierly  in  bearing,    and 

[35] 


Walks   About   Washington 

full  of  enthusiasm ;  but  Mr.  Lincoln,  though  greatly 
attracted  to  him,  felt  some  misgivings  as  to  his  ability 
to  control  his  zouaves,  for  the  New  York  firemen  of 
that  period  had  a  reputation  for  turbulence.  Hence, 
when  arrangements  were  made  for  moving  troops  into 
Virginia  to  occupy  a  region  which  must  be  held  for  the 
defense  of  the  capital,  the  President  consented  to  let 
Ellsworth's  regiment  go  only  on  condition  that  it  should 
be  instantly  disbanded  if  its  members  committed  any 
breach  of  discipline. 

At  two  o'clock  on  the  morning  of  May  24,  1861, 
the  zouaves  boarded  two  Potomac  steamboats,  which 
before  sunrise  had  dropped  down  to  Alexandria. 
Leaving  most  of  his  men  on  the  wharf,  Ellsworth  started 
with  a  small  squad  toward  a  telegraph  office  whence 
he  could  report  to  Washington  by  wire.  He  observed 
a  Confederate  flag  flying  from  the  roof  of  a  hotel  known 
as  the  Marshall  House,  and,  realizing  what  might 
happen  if  his  men  caught  sight  of  it,  entered  with  the 
purpose  of  directing  its  removal.  Jackson,  the  land- 
lord, was  abed,  and  the  man  in  charge  of  the  office 
seemed  irresponsible,  so  Ellsworth  and  his  squad 
hauled  down  the  flag  themselves.  As  they  were  de- 
scending with  it,  Jackson  suddenly  emerged  from  his 
chamber  in  the  second  story  and  leveled  a  double- 
barreled    shotgun    at    Corporal    Brownell,    the    soldier 

[36] 


War    Times   and  their   Sequel 

nearest  him.  Brownell,  with  his  rifle,  struck  Jackson's 
gun  just  as  its  trigger  was  pulled,  and  the  shot  went 
wild  ;  but  in  an  instant  Jackson  had  aimed  again  and 
discharged  the  contents  of  the  second  barrel  into  Ells- 
worth's breast.  The  Colonel  fell  dead,  and  Brownell, 
firing  and  using  his  bayonet  almost  simultaneously, 
killed  Jackson  where  he  stood. 

Except  one  who  had  lost  his  life  by  an  accident, 
Ellsworth  was  the  first  Union  soldier  to  fall  in  the  Civil 
War.  He  was  buried  from  the  White  House  by  the 
President's  order ;  and  the  news  of  his  death  so  aroused 
the  North  that  volunteers  poured  into  Washington  for 
a  time  faster  than  the  Government  could  arm  and 
provision  them.  Mostly  they  were  militia  regiments 
which  had  come  on  under  their  own  officers.  In  Wash- 
ington they  were  united  in  brigades,  with  generals  of 
some  experience  in  command,  and  sent  into  Virginia 
by  way  of  the  "Long  Bridge,"  which  had  its  ter- 
minus on  the  fringe  of  the  Arlington  estate ;  it  was  a 
wooden  structure,  and  the  troops  had  to  break  step  in 
crossing  it.  The  first  battle  between  the  two  armies 
was  at  a  point  near  Manassas,  and  took  its  name. 
Bull  Run,  from  a  small  stream  which,  about  twenty- 
five  miles  southwest  of  Washington,  joins  the  Occoquan 
River. 

So  little  conception  had  the  people  at  large  of  the 

[37] 


Walks  About   Washington 

full  of  enthusiasm ;  but  Mr.  Lincoln,  though  greatly 
attracted  to  him,  felt  some  misgivings  as  to  his  ability 
to  control  his  zouaves,  for  the  New  York  firemen  of 
that  period  had  a  reputation  for  turbulence.  Hence, 
when  arrangements  were  made  for  moving  troops  into 
Virginia  to  occupy  a  region  which  must  be  held  for  the 
defense  of  the  capital,  the  President  consented  to  let 
Ellsworth's  regiment  go  only  on  condition  that  it  should 
be  instantly  disbanded  if  its  members  committed  any 
breach  of  discipline. 

At  two  o'clock  on  the  morning  of  May  24,  1861, 
the  zouaves  boarded  two  Potomac  steamboats,  which 
before  sunrise  had  dropped  down  to  Alexandria. 
Leaving  most  of  his  men  on  the  wharf,  Ellsworth  started 
with  a  small  squad  toward  a  telegraph  office  whence 
he  could  report  to  Washington  by  wire.  He  observed 
a  Confederate  flag  flying  from  the  roof  of  a  hotel  known 
as  the  Marshall  House,  and,  realizing  what  might 
happen  if  his  men  caught  sight  of  it,  entered  with  the 
purpose  of  directing  its  removal.  Jackson,  the  land- 
lord, was  abed,  and  the  man  in  charge  of  the  office 
seemed  irresponsible,  so  Ellsworth  and  his  squad 
hauled  down  the  flag  themselves.  As  they  were  de- 
scending with  it,  Jackson  suddenly  emerged  from  his 
chamber  in  the  second  story  and  leveled  a  double- 
barreled    shotgun    at    Corporal    Brownell,    the    soldier 

[36] 


War    Times   and  their   Sequel 

nearest  him.  Brownell,  with  his  rifle,  struck  Jackson's 
gun  just  as  its  trigger  was  pulled,  and  the  shot  went 
wild ;  but  in  an  instant  Jackson  had  aimed  again  and 
discharged  the  contents  of  the  second  barrel  into  Ells- 
worth's breast.  The  Colonel  fell  dead,  and  Brownell, 
firing  and  using  his  bayonet  almost  simultaneously, 
killed  Jackson  where  he  stood. 

Except  one  who  had  lost  his  life  by  an  accident, 
Ellsworth  was  the  first  Union  soldier  to  fall  in  the  Civil 
War.  He  was  buried  from  the  White  House  by  the 
President's  order ;  and  the  news  of  his  death  so  aroused 
the  North  that  volunteers  poured  into  Washington  for 
a  time  faster  than  the  Government  could  arm  and 
provision  them.  Mostly  they  were  militia  regiments 
which  had  come  on  under  their  own  officers.  In  Wash- 
ington they  were  united  in  brigades,  with  generals  of 
some  experience  in  command,  and  sent  into  Virginia 
by  way  of  the  "Long  Bridge,"  which  had  its  ter- 
minus on  the  fringe  of  the  Arlington  estate ;  it  was  a 
wooden  structure,  and  the  troops  had  to  break  step  in 
crossing  it.  The  first  battle  between  the  two  armies 
was  at  a  point  near  Manassas,  and  took  its  name. 
Bull  Run,  from  a  small  stream  which,  about  twenty- 
five  miles  southwest  of  Washington,  joins  the  Occoquan 
River. 

So  little  conception  had  the  people  at  large  of  the 

[37] 


Walks   About    Washington 

actualities  of  war  that  many  Washingtonians  and 
tourists,  of  all  ages  and  sexes,  drove  down  in  carriages 
to  watch  the  battle  from  a  safe  position  on  the  hillside. 
Fighting  began  on  the  morning  of  Sunday,  July  21, 
and  the  first  reports  that  reached  the  city  described 
everything  as  going  favorably  to  the  Union  cause. 
The  despatches  sent  to  Northern  newspapers  all  re- 
flected this  view,  and  some  went  pretty  elaborately 
into  detail  concerning  incidents  on  various  parts  of 
the  field.  But  suddenly  the  tide  turned,  and  with  a 
panicky  force  which  started  the  whole  body  of  Federal 
troops  on  a  pell-mell  rush  for  Washington.  The 
light-hearted  spectators  ran,  too,  often  impeding  the 
retreat  of  the  soldiers  by  getting  their  carriages  wedged 
together  on  a  bridge  or  a  narrow  road,  while  the  air 
shook  with  mingled  profanity  and  prayers,  punctuated 
with  hysterics.  Not  a  few  of  the  carriage  folk,  as 
night  drew  near,  became  so  terrified  that  they  cut 
their  harness  and  rode  their  horses  bareback,  two 
sometimes  clinging  to  one  animal.  The  Confederates, 
discovering  the  rout,  were  as  much  surprised  as  the 
Federals.  They  set  out  to  follow  their  foes,  but,  not 
fully  grasping  the  real  conditions,  stopped  about 
fifteen  miles  short  of  Washington  and  waited  for 
morning,  thus  giving  the  fugitive  army  a  chance 
to   recover  from   its   first   demoralization.     Had   they 

[38] 


-•  War    Times   and  their   Sequel 

pressed  on,  they  might  have  taken  possession  of  the 
capital  that  night,  captured  the  stored  munitions,  and 
looted  the  Treasury ;  and  the  record  of  the  next  four 
years  must  have  been  written  in  a  different  vein. 

Meanwhile,  the  true  story  had  been  brought  in  by 
the  fleeing  non-combatants,  and  the  Associated  Press 
attempted  to  send  out  a  correction  of  first  reports,  but 
discovered  too  late  that  the  Government  had  seized 
all  the  telegraph  lines  and  established  a  temporary 
censorship,  postponing  any  further  dissemination  of 
news.  As  far  as  known,  only  one  prominent  paper  in 
the  North  was  able  to  describe  the  disaster  in  its 
Monday  morning's  issue.  That  was  a  Philadelphia 
journal,  whose  correspondent  had  taken  to  his  heels 
as  soon  as  the  panic  began.  By  the  time  he  reached 
Washington,  he  was  so  convinced  that  the  Confed- 
erates were  going  to  capture  the  city  at  once,  that  he 
boarded  a  train  which  was  just  pulling  out  for  Phil- 
adelphia, and  at  his  desk  in  his  home  office  dictated 
his  observations  of  the  battle  and  the  stampede, 
v^  The  President,  having  received  only  cheering  bulle- 
tins in  the  earlier  part  of  Sunday,  went  out  for  his 
usual  drive  in  the  cool  of  the  afternoon.  On  his  return, 
about  half-past  six  o'clock,  he  found  awaiting  him  a 
request  to  come  immediately  to  General  Scott's  room 
at  the  War  Department.     All  his  Cabinet  had  gath- 

[39] 


Walks   About    Washington 

ered  there,  and  his  hurried  consultation  with  them 
resulted  in  messages  directing  various  movements  of 
troops  in  the  field,  and  appeals  to  the  Governors  of 
the  loyal  States  for  more  men.  When  he  came  back 
to  his  office,  he  threw  himself  upon  a  lounge,  where  he 
spent  the  night,  not  in  sleep,  but  in  listening  to,  and 
closely  catechising,  parties  of  civilians  who  had  made 
their  way  in  from  Manassas  and  had  hastened  to  the 
White  House  to  pour  their  disjointed  narratives  into 
his  ear.  By  daylight  the  streets  of  Washington  pre- 
sented a  pitiful  spectacle.  Ordinary  business  was 
almost  at  a  standstill ;  excited  citizens  were  gathered  in 
knots  at  every  corner ;  and  a  multitude  of  disheart- 
ened soldiers,  lacking  leaders  and  organization,  not 
knowing  where  to  look  for  their  next  orders  and  think- 
ing with  dread  of  the  effect  the  bad  news  would  have 
upon  their  friends  at  home,  were  wandering  aimlessly 
about.  The  President,  after  twenty-four  hours  of 
anxiety,  was  greatly  relieved  when  the  responses  from 
the  Northern  States  began  to  reach  him,  showing 
that  the  shock  had  not  broken  the  faith  of  the  people 
but  had  awakened  them  to  the  realities  of  the  situation. 
This  change  was  reflected  in  the  Cabinet  councils,  too, 
where  a  sudden  revision  of  opinion  was  observed  on 
the  part  of  those  members  who  had  fancied  that  the 
war   would   be   merely   a   three   months'    holiday  —  a 

[40] 


•*  War    Times   and  their   Sequel 

triumphal  march  of  a  Northern  army  from  Mason  and 
Dixon's  Hne  to  the  Gulf  of  Mexico. 

This  is  not  a  history  of  the  civil  conflict ;  its  be- 
ginnings have  been  thus  outlined  only  because  they 
made  so  deep  an  impress  on  the  future  of  Washington, 
which,  from  being  generally  regarded  by  the  Ameri- 
can people  with  comparative  indifference,  had  become 
a  center  of  interest  for  all  the  world.  The  city  was  not 
again  seriously  threatened  with  capture  till  July, 
1864,  when  the  Confederate  General,  Jubal  A.  Early, 
with  a  corps  of  seasoned  soldiers,  had  worked  his  way 
around  so  as  to  descend  upon  it  from  the  north. 
The  news  of  his  approach,  spreading  through  the 
community,  did  not  cause  the  consternation  which 
might  have  been  expected  in  view  of  the  slight  defen- 
sive preparation  that  had  been  made  in  the  menaced 
quarter.  Requisitions  were  sent  to  the  army  in 
Northern  Virginia  for  such  troops  as  could  be  spared. 
Wounded  and  discharged  Union  veterans  shouldered 
their  guns  once  more.  The  male  nurses  in  the  hospi- 
tals were  drafted  for  active  duty.  A  troop  of  cavalry 
was  recruited  among  the  civilian  teamsters  at  work 
in  the  city.  From  all  the  executive  Departments  the 
able-bodied  clerks  were  called  out,  armed  with  rifles 
or  muskets  as  far  as  possible,  and  for  the  rest  with 
pistols,    old    cutlasses,    axes,    shovels,    and    whatever 

[411 


Walks   About    Washington 

other  implements  might  be  turned  to  emergency  use, 
and  ranged  up  on  the  sidewalks  for  elementary  instruc- 
tion and  drill.  Those  who  were  least  strong  or  most 
poorly  armed  were  organized  into  a  home-guard,  to 
act  as  a  last  reserve  if  the  Confederates  succeeded  in 
piercing  a  line  of  earthworks  thrown  out  north  of  the 
city.  Some  of  these  fortifications  can  still  be  identi- 
fied, though  worn  away  by  a  half-century's  exposure 
to  a  variable  climate,  overgrown  with  trees  and  vines, 
and  at  intervals  used  as  building  sites.  The  most 
interesting  of  the  chain  is  Fort  Stevens,  near  the 
present  Seventh  Street  Road,  for  there  President  Lin- 
coln stood  for  hours  under  fire,  refusing  to  go  home 
as  long  as  there  seemed  a  chance  that  his  presence  could 
lend  any  inspiration  to  the  men.  The  invading  force 
was  repulsed  after  a  two  days'  effort  to  break  through, 
and  Washington  breathed  freely  once  more. 

We  come  now  to  the  concluding  stage  of  the  great 
struggle.  Mr.  Lincoln  was  reelected  in  November, 
1864,  and  inaugurated  on  the  fourth  of  March,  1865, 
making  the  chief  theme  of  his  address  a  plea  for  gen- 
erous treatment  of  the  South.  Within  a  month  Rich- 
mond fell,  and  five  days  after  that  General  Lee  sur- 
rendered his  army.  There  was  great  rejoicing  in 
Washington  over  both  these  portents  of  peace,  and 
parties  of  men  and  women  paraded  the  streets  after 

[42I 


Union  Engine  House  of  1815 


1       > 


'/-    ^ 


■■-s». 


War    Times   a?id  their   Sequel 

nightfall,  singing  patriotic  songs  in  front  of  the 
dwellings  of  prominent  Government  officers.  On  the 
night  of  April  1 1  a  great  crowd  gathered  in  the  White 
House  yard,  loudly  cheering  the  President  and  calling 
for  a  speech.  Having  been  notified  in  advance,  he 
had  jotted  down  a  few  remarks  which  he  now  read 
from  manuscript.  This  memory  of  him  we  shall  take 
away  with  us,  as  he  stood  framed  in  an  open  window, 
with  one  of  his  secretaries  at  his  side  holding  a  lighted 
candle  for  him  to  see  by,  and  his  little  son  Tad  taking 
from  his  hand  the  pages  of  manuscript,  one  by  one, 
as  he  finished  reading  them,  while  the  rest  of  his 
family,  with  radiant  faces,  were  grouped  where  they 
could  overlook  the  scene. 

Three  nights  later,  almost  at  the  same  hour,  Booth's 
bullet  laid  the  good  man  low  in  his  box  at  Ford's 
Theater ;  and  in  a  little  back  hall  bedroom  of  the 
house  across  the  street  to  which  he  was  carried,  he 
breathed  his  last  at  an  early  hour  on  the  following 
morning.  Simultaneously  with  the  shooting  of  Mr. 
Lincoln,  an  attempt  was  made  to  kill  Secretary  Seward, 
and  the  detectives  unearthed  evidence  of  a  wide 
conspiracy,  which  contemplated  a  simultaneous  mur- 
der of  the  President,  the  Vice-president,  all  the  Cabi- 
net, and  General  Grant.  The  conspirators  were  soon 
tracked.     Booth  was  shot  in  a  Virginia  barn  in  which 

[43] 


Walks  About    Washington 

he  had  taken  refuge  from  his  pursuers  ;    four  others 
were  tried  b}^  a   military  commission   and  hanged. 

Andrew  Johnson,  the  Vice-president,  was  not  a  tact- 
ful man,  and  had  already  drawn  upon  himself  the 
enmity  of  the  radical  wing  of  his  party  in  Congress, 
which  was  intensified  by  his  first  acts  as  President, 
foreshadowing  a  considerate  policy  toward  the  South. 
A  tiresome  petty  warfare  set  in,  Johnson  vetoing  bill 
after  bill,  only  to  see  it  repassed  over  his  veto.  Of 
the  members  of  the  Lincoln  Cabinet  he  had  retained, 
Secretary  Stanton  was  the  one  with  whom  he  had  most 
friction,  and  in  August,  1867,  he  called  for  Stanton's 
resignation,  designating  General  Grant  to  manage  the 
War  Department  temporarily.  On  Stanton's  refusal  to 
resign,  Johnson  suspended  him,  and  Grant  took  over 
the  Department  and  held  it  till  the  Senate  adopted 
a  resolution  declaring  its  non-concurrence  in  Stanton's 
suspension.  Then  Grant  stepped  out,  and  Stanton 
returned  to  duty.  Johnson  suspended  him  again, 
this  time  designating  General  Lorenzo  Thomas  to  act 
in  his  stead.  Matters  had  now  reached  a  climax, 
and  the  House  in  1868  impeached  the  President.  His 
trial  by  the  Senate  consumed  nearly  two  months  and 
ended  in  a  failure  to  convict.  In  view  of  this  defeat, 
Stanton  resigned,  and  from  that  time  till  the  close  of 
his    term    President    Johnson    continued    his    quarrel 

[441 


War    Times  and  their   Sequel 

with  the  opponents  of  his  policy,  celebrating  his  last 
Christmas  in  the  White  House  by  proclaiming  a  gen- 
eral pardon  and  amnesty,  so  framed  as  to  include  all 
grades  of  political  oflFenders. 

Johnson  was  President  when  the  enlargement  of 
the  Capitol  building  was  finished,  including  the  rear- 
ing of  the  present  dome.  While  the  alterations  were 
in  progress,  the  grand  two  days'  parade  of  the  victo- 
rious armies  took  place  on  Pennsylvania  Avenue,  the 
President  reviewing  it  as  it  passed  the  White  House. 
General  Grant  was  elected  by  the  Republicans  to  suc- 
ceed Johnson,  taking  office  in  March,  1869.  During 
the  next  sixteen  years,  divided  between  his  two  terms 
and  the  administrations  of  Hayes,  Garfield,  and 
Arthur,  Washington  almost  doubled  in  population. 
While  Grant  was  President,  it  was  so  constantly  in 
the  public  eye  that  many  rich  men  discerned  its  future 
possibilities  and  invested  in  real  estate  there.  Army 
and  navy  officers,  retired  from  active  duty,  found  it 
pleasant  to  settle  down  where  they  would  be  most 
likely  to  meet  their  old  comrades.  A  few  scholars 
drifted  in,  so  as  to  have  easy  access  to  the  Govern- 
ment libraries  and  records.  Thus,  in  both  a  material 
and  a  social  way,  Washington  took  a  strong  upward 
start. 

For  the  esthetic  side  of  the  general  change,  less  can 

[451 


Walks  About    Washi7igton 

be  said  In  praise.  Most  of  the  dwellings  built  during 
this  era  can  still  be  distinguished  by  their  gratuitous 
ugliness.  The  parks  became  strewn  with  flower-beds 
of  fantastic  shape,  overrun  by  a  riot  of  inharmonious 
colors.  Statues  sprang  up  like  mushrooms,  unre- 
lated In  size  or  style  or  any  other  quality.  Alterations 
of  street  grades  left  little  houses  perched  on  bluffs 
and  leaning  against  big  neighbors  built  at  the  new 
level,  or  sunk  in  dingy  pits.  All  this  contributed  to 
give  the  city  an  unfinished  look,  like  that  of  a  child 
growing  out  of  its  small  clothes.  Over  the  whole  pro- 
cess of  transformation  loomed  its  master  figure,  Alex- 
ander R.  Shepherd. 

No  man  of  his  day,  unless  it  were  Grant  himself, 
endured  more  wholesale  denunciation  or  found  more 
valiant  defenders  than  he.  Like  Grant,  who  believed 
in  him  thoroughly,  he  had  an  Iron  will  which  treated 
all  obstacles  as  negligible  when  he  had  set  himself 
to  accomplish  a  certain  end.  As  a  plumber  by  trade 
and  a  very  competent  one,  he  had  accumulated  a  for- 
tune before  middle  life.  Early  in  his  business  career 
he  had  made  up  his  mind  that  Washington's  failure 
to  fulfil  L'Enfant's  ideal  of  a  beautiful  capital  was  due 
to  the  sluggishness  which  pervaded  It,  and  this  he 
resolved  to  dispel.  Grant  listened  to  his  projects 
and  encouraged  them.     The  first  step  was  to  abolish 

[46] 


>  W^ar    Times   and  their   Sequel 

the  existing  form  of  municipal  government  and  to  sub- 
stitute a  Territorial  form,  with  a  Governor  and  a  Board 
of  Public  Works.  Shepherd  was  made  vice-president 
of  the  Board  and  virtually  its  dictator. 

What  he  had  to  face  in  his  effort  to  launch  the  city 
afresh  can  hardly  be  conceived  by  an  observer  of  to- 
day. Although  ten  years  had  elapsed  since  the  out- 
break of  the  great  war  of  which  Washington  was  the 
focal  center,  local  conditions  had  improved  but  slightly 
upon  those  described  toward  the  close  of  the  previous 
chapter.  The  road-bed  of  Pennsylvania  Avenue  had 
received  a  pavement  of  wood,  which  was  fast  going  to 
pieces.  A  single  square  in  Vermont  Avenue  was 
surfaced  with  a  coal-tar  product  that  had  proved  its 
unfitness.  A  few  other  streets  had  been  spread  with 
a  thick  coat  of  gravel,  which,  as  it  was  gradually 
ground  down,  filled  the  air  with  fine  grit  whenever  the 
w^nd  blew.  The  rest  of  the  highways  were  either 
paved  with  cobblestones  or  left  in  their  primitive  dirt, 
which  became  nearly  impassable  in  very  wet  weather 
for  mud,  and  in  very  dry  weather  for  dust.  It  was  not 
uncommon  for  a  heavy  vehicle  like  a  fire-engine  to 
get  stalled  when  it  most  needed  to  hurry,  and  to  avoid 
this  contingency  the  engines  sometimes  ran  over  the 
sidewalk.  In  the  northwestern  quarter,  now  so  at- 
tractive, the  marshes  were  undrained,  and  the  people 

[47] 


W^alks  About    Washington 

forced  to  live  there  suffered  tortures  from  chills  and 
fever.  There  was  no  efficient  system  of  scavenging, 
but  swine  were  kept  in  back  yards  of  dwellings  to  de- 
vour the  kitchen  refuse.  Poultry  and  cattle  roamed 
freely  about  the  vacant  lots  in  thinly  settled  neigh- 
borhoods. There  were  several  open  sewers  ;  and  the 
street  sweepings,  including  offal  of  a  highly  offensive 
sort,  were  dumped  on  the  common  south  of  Pennsyl- 
vania Avenue  and  strewn  over  the  plots  set  apart  for 
lawns. 

Because  Shepherd  foresaw  the  hostility  he  would 
excite  by  his  program  of  reforms,  and  that  what  he 
did  must  therefore  be  done  quickly,  he  crowded  into 
three  years  what  might  well  have  consumed  twenty. 
To  save  time  and  cut  red  tape,  he  awarded  contracts 
to  friends  whom  he  believed  to  be  as  much  in  earnest 
as  he  was  —  a  practice  which  of  course  laid  him  open 
to  accusations  of  favoritism ;  he  experimented  with 
novel  materials  and  methods,  many  of  which  proved 
ill-adapted  to  his  needs  ;  and  his  expenditures  reached 
figures  which  surprised  even  him  when  he  found  lei- 
sure to  foot  up  his  debit  page.  But  he  shirked  nothing 
because  of  the  danger  or  trouble  it  might  involve  for 
himself,  and  his  opponents  had  to  lie  awake  nights  to 
outwit  him. 

For  instance,  there  stood  on  the  present  site  of  the 

[48] 


IFar    Times   and  their   Sequel 

Public  Library  In  Mount  Vernon  Square  a  ramshackle 
old  market  building,  the  owners  of  which  had  con- 
trived so  to  intrench  themselves  behind  legal  techni- 
calities that  they  could  not  be  ousted  by  any  ordinary 
process.  One  evening,  after  the  courts  were  closed,  a 
platoon  of  brawny  laborers  was  marched  up  to  the 
building,  armed  with  battering-rams,  axes,  and  sledge- 
hammers, and,  before  proprietors  or  tenants  could 
hunt  up  a  judge  to  interfere,  the  party  had  reduced  the 
market  to  kindling  wood  and  prepared  the  ground 
for  conversion  into  a  public  park.  Again,  when  the 
time  came  to  improve  the  lower  end  of  Pennsylvania 
Avenue,  a  railroad  crossing  stood  in  the  way.  It  had 
been  laid  during  the  war,  with  no  legal  warrant  but 
as  a  temporary  military  necessity,  and  the  company 
had  repeatedly  refused  to  remove  it.  So  at  one  o'clock 
one  Sunday  morning,  when  injunctions  were  out  of 
the  question.  Shepherd  brought  down  a  gang  of  trusty 
men  and  proceeded  to  tear  up  the  rails,  which  could 
never  thereafter  be  replaced. 

The  boldness  of  this  performance  so  stirred  the  ad- 
miration of  John  W.  Garrett,  one  of  the  most  power- 
ful railway  magnates  of  the  day,  that  he  offered  Shep- 
herd a  vice-presidency  of  the  Baltimore  and  Ohio 
Company.  But  Shepherd  was  not  to  be  lured  away. 
He  was  promoted  by  Grant  from  the  vice-presidency  of 

[49l 


Walks   About    Washington 

the  Board  of  Public  Works  to  the  Governorship  of  the 
District,  a  move  which,  though  flattering,  made  him 
all  the  more  shining  a  mark  for  attack ;  and  a  group  of 
large  landowners,  shuddering  at  the  prospect  of  fur- 
ther increases  in  taxation,  induced  Congress  to  reor- 
ganize the  local  government,  wiping  out  entirely  the 
Territorial  system  and  popular  suffrage,  and  putting 
the  administration  of  affairs  into  the  hands  of  three 
Commissioners  to  be  appointed  for  limited  terms  by 
the  President.  This  plan  has  remained  substantially 
unchanged  for  more  than  forty  years,  to  the  satis- 
faction of  the  citizens  who  have  most  at  stake  in  the 
welfare  of  the  city. 

Having  entered  oifice  rich  at  the  age  of  thirty,  Shep- 
herd quitted  it  at  thirty-three  so  poor  that  he  had  to 
begin  life  anew  in  the  Mexican  mining  country.  He 
left  as  his  monument  a  record  expenditure  of  twenty- 
six  million  dollars,  about  half  that  amount  remaining  • 
as  a  bonded  debt ;  many  miles  of  newly  opened  or 
extended  streets ;  a  splendid  achievement  in  shade- 
tree  installation  and  parking  improvement ;  modern 
water,  sanitation,  and  lighting  plants ;  and,  above 
all,  an  awakened  popular  spirit  as  to  civic  advance- 
ment. Albeit  his  ways  of  working  out  his  plans  often 
were  so  crude  as  to  shock  the  sense  of  quieter  people 
and  not  to  be  commended  as  a  continuing  force   for 

[so] 


On  the  Ruiyis  of  Fort  Stevens 


IVar    Times   and  their   Sequel 

good,  they  served  their  time,  which  needed  the  appli- 
cation of  a  crowbar  rather  than  a  cambric  needle. 

True  to  his  human  type.  Shepherd  was  an  odd  mix- 
ture of  incongruities.  He  poured  out  public  funds 
like  water,  yet  profited  never  a  cent  himself.  In  his 
own  fashion  he  was  pious,  yet  he  could  swear  like  a 
trooper  when  aroused,  and  once  halted  in  the  midst 
of  family  prayers  to  order  a  servant  to  "drive  that 
damned  cow  out  of  the  rose-bushes!"  He  was  over- 
heard, after  hurling  imprecations  at  some  contractor 
who  had  mishandled  a  job,  murmuring  a  prayer  to  the 
Almighty  to  forgive  and  forget  his  momentary  loss  of 
temper.  A  lady  who  once  engaged  him  as  a  plumber 
to  hang  a  chandelier  in  her  parlor  noticed  that  it  swayed 
under  her  touch,  and  sent  for  him  again  to  make  sure 
that  it  would  not  fall  upon  the  heads  of  her  guests. 
His  answer  was  to  mount  a  chair  on  one  side  of  the 
room,  pull  the  chandelier  toward  him  till  he  could 
grasp  it  with  both  hands,  jump  off,  and  swing  his 
whole  weight  of  two  hundred  and  twenty-five  pounds 
across  to  a  chair  on  the  opposite  side.  This  exhibi- 
tion of  his  confidence  in  his  work  completely  restored 
hers. 

Little  more  need  be  told  here.  The  sodden  soil 
plowed  up  by  Shepherd  was  gradually  harrowed  and 
seeded,  watched  and  watered,  till  it  brought  forth  a 

[511 


Walks   About    Washington 

new  city,  which  under  later  administrations,  in  spite  of 
many  vicissitudes,  has  prospered  in  the  main.  Presi- 
dents Cleveland,  Harrison,  and  McKinley  took  an 
interest  in  it  which,  while  kindly,  had  some  of  the 
detached  quality  of  their  interest  in  any  of  the  States 
or  Territories ;  under  them,  however,  the  beautiful 
Rock  Creek  National  Park  and  its  neighbor  the  "Zoo" 
were  planned  and  largely  developed,  and  the  pleasure- 
ground  and  suburban  expansion  programs  received 
a  considerable  impetus.  President  Roosevelt  felt  a 
lively  sense  of  the  importance  of  the  city  as  the  capi- 
tal of  a  great  nation.  It  was  in  his  time  that  the 
White  House  underwent  its  restoration,  and  the  L'En- 
fant  plan  generally  was  revived  as  a  standard.  He 
was  responsible,  also,  for  attracting  to  Washington, 
as  permanent  residents,  many  literary  and  scientific 
workers  whom  it  had  formerly  welcomed  only  as  vis- 
itors, and  the  foundation  of  the  Carnegie  Institution 
went  far  to  make  this  period  notable  in  local  annals. 
Mr.  Taft's  interest  took  more  the  neighborly  bent,  as 
if  Washington  were  his  home.  He  bore  an  active  part 
in  the  popular  movements  for  beautifying  the  city, 
not  so  much  because  it  was  a  capital,  as  because  he 
wished  to  have  a  hand  in  the  civic  enterprises  of  his 
fellow  townsmen. 

President   Wilson's  attitude  has  not   thus  far  been 

[52] 


IV ar    Times   and  their    Sequel 

so  clearly  defined  as  that  of  his  recent  predecessors. 
Other  pressing  public  concerns  have  left  him  scant 
time  for  looking  into  municipal  improvement  projects. 
Mrs.  Wilson,  however,  gave  them  much  attention ; 
and  a  hope  expressed  during  her  last  illness  so  touched 
the  heart  of  Congress  as  to  bring  about  the  enactment 
of  some  long-delayed  legislation  to  abate  the  use  of 
unwholesome  alleys  for  the  tenements  of  the  poor. 


[S3] 


CHAPTER   III 
"ON  THE  HILL" 

IN  the  ordinary  conversation  of  Washington,  one 
rarely  hears  Congress  mentioned  by  name.  The 
respective  functions  of  its  two  chambers  are  so  gen- 
erally understood  that  it  is  common  to  distinguish 
between  them :  the  Senate  yesterday  did  so-and-so ; 
something  is  about  to  occur  in  the  House  of  Repre- 
sentatives. In  speaking  of  the  lawmakers  collectively, 
the  familiar  phrase  is  "the  gentlemen  on  the  hill." 
Washington  has  several  hills,  but  "the"  hill  is  by  uni- 
versal consent  the  one  on  which  the  Capitol  stands. 
To  the  visitor  who  knows  the  city  only  in  its  pres- 
ent aspect,  the  choice  of  this  hill  for  the  monumental 
building  now  crowning  it  seems  most  natural.  This 
is  not,  however,  the  place  originally  considered  for 
the  purpose.  James  Madison  favored  Shuter's  Hill, 
an  eminence  a  little  west  of  Alexandria,  now  embraced 
in  the  tract  set  apart  for  George  Washington  Park. 
Thomas  Jefferson  supported  Madison  in  this  prefer- 
ence ;   but  President  Washington,  feeling  that  Virginia 

[54] 


>  ''On   the  Hiir 

had  already  had  her  full  share  of  the  honors  in  launch- 
ing the  new  republic,  insisted  that  the  most  important 
architecture  at  the  seat  of  government  should  stand 
on  the  Maryland  side  of  the  Potomac.  His  view- 
prevailed  ;  and,  when  the  sites  of  the  principal  public 
buildings  were  marked  on  L'Enfant's  plan  of  the  city, 
that  selected  for  the  Capitol  was  the  elevation  which, 
besides  being  fairly  central,  commanded  in  its  outlook, 
and  was  commanded  by,  the  greatest  area  of  country 
on  both  sides  of  the  river. 

Like  almost  everything  else  architectural  in  Wash- 
ington, the  Capitol  is  a  pile  of  gradual  growth,  subjected 
to  many  changes  of  detail  in  the  plans.  Sketches  were 
submitted  in  competition  for  a  prize ;  the  two  competi- 
tors who  came  nearest  to  meeting  the  requirements, 
though  adopted  citizens  of  the  United  States,  were 
respectively  of  French  and  English  birth ;  and  the 
drawings  finally  evolved  from  the  general  scheme  of 
the  one  modified  by  the  more  acceptable  ideas  of  the 
other  were  turned  over  to  an  Irishman  to  perfect  and 
carry  out.  Most  of  the  credit  belongs,  undoubtedly, 
to  Doctor  William  Thornton,  a  draftsman  by  pro- 
fession, who  afterward  became  Superintendent  of 
Patents.  The  material  used  was  freestone  from  a 
neighboring  quarry.  Only  the  north  or  Senate  end 
was  far  enough  advanced  by  the  autumn  of  1800  to 

[551 


W^alks   About    JVashington 

enable  Congress  to  hold  its  short  session  there,  and  the 
disputes  which  arose  over  the  succeeding  stages  of  the 
work  led  President  Jefferson  to  call  in  Benjamin  H. 
Latrobe  of  Richmond,  the  first  architect  of  already 
established  rank  who  had  had  anything  to  do  with  it. 
Under  his  direction,  the  south  end  was  made  habit- 
able by  i8i  I  ;  and  the  House  of  Representatives,  which 
till  then  had  been  uncomfortably  quartered  in  such  odd 
places  as  it  could  find,  took  possession.  There  was  no 
central  structure  connecting  the  Senate  and  House 
ends,  but  a  roofed  wooden  passageway  led  from  the 
one  to  the  other.  In  this  condition  was  the  Capitol 
when,  in  1814,  the  British  invaders  burned  all  of  it 
that  was  burnable. 

The  heavier  masonry,  of  course,  was  unaffected  by 
the  fire  except  for  the  need  of  a  little  patchwork  here 
and  there ;  but  in  his  task  of  restoration  Mr.  Latrobe 
found  himself  so  embarrassed  by  dissensions  between 
the  dignitaries  who  gave  him  his  orders  that  after 
three  vexatious  years  he  resigned,  and  the  celebrated 
Charles  Bulfinch  of  Boston  took  his  place.  In  1830 
Mr.  Bulfinch  pronounced  the  building  finished  and 
returned  home,  and  for  twenty  years  it  remained  sub- 
stantially as  he  left  it.  Then,  the  needs  of  Congress 
having  outgrown  the  space  at  their  disposal,  Thomas 
U.  Walter  of  Philadelphia  was  ordered  to  prepare  plans 

[56] 


"0?t  the  Hiir 

for  an  enlargement,  and  he  was  far-sighted  enough 
to  make  the  extension  the  vehicle  for  some  other 
improvements.  The  great  wings  attached  to  the 
northern  and  southern  extremities  were  built  of  white 
marble,  which  has  rendered  imperative  the  frequent 
repainting  of  the  old  freestone  surfaces  to  match  ;  the 
dome  was  raised  proportionally ;  and  additions  made, 
then  and  since,  to  the  surrounding  grounds,  have  given 
the  building  an  appropriate  setting  and  vastly  enhanced 
its  beauty  of  approach. 

This  is,  in  brief,  the  story  of  the  Capitol  as  we  find 
it  to-day.  A  stroll  through  it  will  call  up  other  mem- 
ories. As  you  look  at  the  building  from  the  east,  you 
will  be  struck  by  the  difference  in  tint  between  the 
painted  main  structure  and  the  two  marble  wings. 
Imagine  the  wings  cut  oif  and  the  dome  reduced  to 
about  half  its  present  height  and  ended  abruptly  in 
a  flat  top,  and  you  have  in  your  mind's  eye  a  picture 
of  the  Capitol  as  Bulfinch  left  it,  and  as  it  remained 
till  shortly  before  the  Civil  War.  Its  most  conspicu- 
ous feature  now  is  its  towering  dome,  surmounted  by 
a  bronze  allegorical  figure  of  American  Freedom.  As 
the  sculptor  Crawford  originally  modeled  the  image,  its 
head  was  crowned  with  the  conventional  liberty-cap ; 
but  Jefferson  Davis,  then  Secretary  of  War,  objected 
to  this  on  the  ground  that  it  was  the  sign  of  a  freed 

[57  1 


Walks  About    Washington 

slave,  whereas  Americans  were  born  free.  The  cap 
was  therefore  discarded  in  favor  of  the  present  helmet 
of  eagle  feathers. 

Filling  the  pediment  over  the  main  portico  is  a  bit 
of  sculpture  which  enjoys  the  distinction  of  having 
been  designed  by  John  Quincy  Adams,  because  he  could 
not  find  an  artist  who  could  draw  him  what  he  wished. 
It  consists  of  three  figures  :  the  Genius  of  America  in 
the  center  and  Hope  and  Justice  on  either  side,  Jus- 
tice appearing  without  her  customary  blindfold. 
Flanking  the  main  staircase  are  two  groups  of  stat- 
uary. That  on  our  left  is  called  "The  Discovery" 
—  Columbus  holding  aloft  a  globe,  while  an  Indian 
woman  crouches  at  his  feet.  It  was  done  by  the  Ital- 
ian sculptor  Persico,  who  copied  Columbus's  armor 
from  the  last  suit  actually  worn  by  him.  And  now 
comes  a  bit  of  politics ;  for  Congress,  having  awarded 
this  work  to  a  foreigner,  was  besieged  by  a  demand 
that  the  next  order  be  given  to  an  American,  and  ac- 
cordingly engaged  Horatio  Greenough  to  produce 
"The  Rescue,"  which  stands  on  our  right.  It  repre- 
sents a  frontiersman  saving  his  wife  and  child  from 
capture  by  an  Indian. 

The  portico  has  an  historic  association  with  another 
President  besides  Adams,  for  it  was  here  that  an 
attempt  was  made  upon  the  life  of  Andrew  Jackson. 

(58] 


>  .   "  On   the   Hill " 

At  the  close  of  a  funeral  service  in  the  House  of  Rep- 
resentatives, he  had  just  passed  out  of  the  rotunda  to 
descend  the  steps,  when  a  demented  mechanic  named 
Lawrence  sprang  from  a  place  of  hiding,  aimed  a 
pistol  at  him,  and  pulled  the  trigger.  As  they  were 
less  than  ten  feet  apart,  the  President  was  saved  only 
by  the  failure  of  the  powder  to  explode.  Lawrence 
instantly  dropped  the  useless  pistol  and  tried  an- 
other, with  like  eifect.  Jackson  never  could  be  talked 
out  of  the  idea  that  Lawrence  was  the  tool  of  political 
conspirators  who  wished  to  put  some  one  else  in  his 
place  as  President. 

We  enter  the  building  between  the  bronze  doors 
designed  by  Randolph  Rogers,  commonly  called  the 
"Columbus  doors"  because  they  tell,  in  a  series  of 
reliefs,  the  life  story  of  the  discoverer.  In  the  rotunda, 
the  center  of  the  building,  we  find  ourselves  surrounded 
by  paintings  and  sculpture  dealing  with  historical 
subjects.  Hung  at  even  intervals  are  eight  large 
canvases,  of  which  four  are  by  John  Trumbull,  a  por- 
trait painter  who  was  also  an  officer  of  the  patriot 
army  in  the  Revolution.  For  the  one  representing 
the  signing  of  the  Declaration  of  Independence,  old  John 
Randolph  could  find  no  better  designation  than  "the 
shin  piece,"  because  "such  a  collection  of  legs  never 
before  came  together  in  any  one  picture"  ;   but  a  more 

[59] 


Walks  About    Washington 

friendly  commentator  has  discovered  by  actual  count 
that,  of  the  nearly  fifty  figures,  only  ten  show  either 
legs  or  feet,  the  rest  being  relieved  by  drapery  or  deep 
shadows.  In  another,  the  "Resignation  of  General 
Washington,"  are  the  figures  of  two  girls,  which  have 
given  rise  to  many  a  discussion  among  sightseers  be- 
cause the  pair  seem  to  have  five  hands  between  them ; 
I  shall  not  attempt  to  solve  the  problern. 

The  paintings  of  the  "Landing  of  Columbus," 
"Discovery  of  the  Mississippi,"  "Baptism  of  Poca- 
hontas," and  "Embarkation  of  the  Pilgrims"  are  from 
the  brushes  of  Vanderlyn,  Powell,  Chapman,  and  Weir 
respectively.  Their  subjects  permit  of  picturesque 
costumes  and  dramatic  groupings  which  Trumbull 
could  not  use.  But  whatever  his  limitations,  we  owe 
to  him,  probably  more  than  to  any  other  one  man,  the 
rotunda  as  we  know  it.  Bulfinch  had  under  considera- 
tion various  schemes  of  treatment  for  the  center  of 
the  building,  but  Trumbull's  foremost  thought  was  of 
a  good  light  for  his  pictures ;  and,  as  he  was  a  valued 
friend  of  the  architect,  the  pertinacity  with  which  he 
urged  this  design  won  the  day. 

Four  doors  pierce  the  circular  chamber,  and  over 
each  is  a  rectangle  of  sculpture  in  high  relief.  As  works 
of  art,  the  quartet  are  little  short  of  execrable,  but 
as    milestones  on    the  path   of   esthetic    development 

[60] 


^'On  the  Hiir 

in  America  they  have  a  charm  of  their  own.  All 
were  the  work  of  Italian  sculptors,  whose  acquaintance 
with  our  domestic  history  and  concerns  was  presump- 
tively scant ;  and  when  the  tablet  showing  William 
Penn  negotiating  his  treaty  with  the  Indians  was  first 
exhibited  to  the  public,  the  head  of  the  gentle  Quaker 
was  adorned  with  a  cocked  hat  and  military  queue. 
It  was  necessary,  therefore,  to  decapitate  him  and  set 
upon  his  shoulders  the  head  he  now  wears.  All  four 
reliefs  deal  with  our  aboriginal  problem.  In  one,  the 
Indians  are  welcoming  the  Pilgrim  Fathers  with  a 
gift  of  corn ;  in  another,  they  are  conveying  to  Penn 
the  land  on  which  Philadelphia  now  stands ;  in  a  third, 
Pocahontas  is  saving  the  life  of  Captain  John  Smith ; 
while  in  the  fourth,  Caucasian  civilization,  personified 
in  Daniel  Boone,  has  already  killed  one  Indian  and  is 
engaged  in  bloody  combat  with  a  second.  The  series 
drew  from  an  old  chief  the  comment  that  they  told 
the  true  story  of  the  way  the  white  race  had  repaid  the 
hospitality  of  the  red  race  by  exterminating  it ;  and 
another  observer,  pointing  to  the  huddled-up  body 
of  the  fallen  Indian  under  Boone's  foot,  remarked  : 
"The  white  man  has  not  left  the  Indian  land  enough 
even  to  die  on !" 

Running  all  around  the  circular  wall  and  immediately 
under  the  dome  opening,  we  note  an  unfinished  frieze, 

[6il 


Walks   About    Washington 

so  done  in  neutral  tints  as  to  convey  the  suggestion 
of  relief  sculpture,  depicting  the  most  notable  events 
in  the  history  of  America  from  the  landing  of  Colum- 
bus to  the  discovery  of  gold  in  California.  Six  of  the 
fourteen  scenes  were  painted  by  Constantino  Brumidi, 
and  the  others  after  sketches  left  by  him.  It  was  an 
ambitious  design,  in  view  of  the  rapidity  with  which 
history  is  made  now  and  the  brevity  of  the  space. 
Only  a  trifling  gap  is  left  for  all  that  has  happened  in 
the  last  sixty  years  or  so,  and  Congress  has  had  more 
than  one  debate  over  what  ought  to  be  crowded  into 
the  record  of  this  interval.  Among  the  subjects  con- 
sidered have  been  the  emancipation  of  the  slaves,  the 
completion  of  the  first  transcontinental  railroad,  and 
the  freeing  of  Cuba ;  but  the  proposal  which  has  met 
with  most  favor  is  a  symbolic  treatment  of  the  Civil 
War,  not  as  a  breach  between  the  sections  but  as  the 
cementing  of  a  stronger  bond.  This  was  set  aside  be- 
cause the  design  outlined  was  a  representation  of  Grant 
and  Lee  clasping  hands  under  the  Appomattox  apple 
tree  —  the  objection  being  based  on  the  discovery 
that  the  apple  tree  existed  only  in  fiction,  and  that  the 
real  meeting-place  of  the  two  commanders  was  too 
unromantic  for  artistic  use. 

From  the  frieze  our  eyes  ascend  to  the  canopy,  or 
inner  lining  of  the  dome,  which  hangs  above  us  like  an 

[62] 


p 


Survivals  from  "  Before  the  fFar" 


>  1      1  J      1      >  5 


>  «  *        • 


iM':-^, 


^^^■^.^-^^^^■■■^  ■■^'{-  i\¥i 


^ 

iS 


_^__^ 


^ 


f<3 


■V 


''On   the   Hill'' 

inverted  bowl  enclosing  an  elaborate  fresco  in  colors. 
This,  too,  is  from  the  brush  of  Brumidi.  Although  it 
is  ostensibly  allegorical,  many  of  its  sixty-three  human 
faces  are  recognizable  portraits,  including  those  of 
Washington,  Franklin,  Hamilton,  Robert  Morris,  Sam- 
uel F.  B.  Morse,  Robert  Fulton,  and  Thomas  U.  Wal- 
ter, who  was  architect  of  the  Capitol  while  the  work 
was  in  progress.  In  a  group  representing  War,  with 
an  armed  goddess  of  liberty  for  its  center,  are  heads 
resembling  those  of  Jefferson  Davis,  Alexander  H. 
Stephens,  Robert  E.  Lee,  and  John  B.  Floyd.  Whether 
the  likenesses  are  there  by  the  deliberate  intent  of  the 
artist,  or  merely  by  accident,  no  one  will  ever  know, 
as  Brumidi  died  in  1880. 

The  door  on  our  left  leads,  through  a  short  corridor, 
into  what  was  once  the  Hall  of  Representatives.  It 
is  now  known  officially  as  the  Hall  of  Statuary,  but  to 
irreverent  critics  as  the  National  Chamber  of  Horrors, 
because  of  the  varied  assortment  of  marble  and  bronze 
images  collected  there.  The  room  is  semicircular, 
with  a  domed  ceiling,  a  great  arch  and  supporting  pil- 
lars on  its  flat  side,  and  a  colonnade  lining  the  horse- 
shoe. During  the  forty  years  that  it  was  used  for  legis- 
lative purposes,  a  rostrum  holding  the  Speaker's  table 
and  chair  filled  the  arch,  and  the  desks  of  the  Repre- 
sentatives were  arranged  in  concentric  curves  to  face 

[63] 


W^alks  About    Washington 

it.  Overlooking  the  chamber,  and  following  most  of 
the  rear  wall,  ran  a  narrow  gallery  for  visitors  who 
did  not  enjoy  the  privileges  of  the  floor ;  it  derived  an 
air  of  comfort  from  curtains  hung  between  the  columns 
of  the  colonnade  and  looped  back  so  as  to  produce  the 
effect  of  a  tier  of  opera-boxes.  Stay  in  the  room  a 
while,  and  you  will  understand  why,  for  many  years, 
the  complaint  of  its  acoustic  properties  was  so  constant, 
and  a  demand  for  a  better  hall  so  strong  :  it  is  a 
wonderful  whispering  gallery.  There  are  spots  in  the 
tiled  pavement  where  you  can  stand  and  hear  the 
slightest  sound  you  make  come  back  from  some  point 
before  or  behind  you,  over  your  head,  or  under  your 
feet.  Go  to  the  place  where  the  semicircle  ends  on 
one  side  of  the  room,  and  I  will  go  to  the  correspond- 
ing place  on  the  other  side,  and,  by  speaking  into  the 
vertical  fissures  between  the  wall  and  the  pillars  at 
the  two  extremities  of  the  great  arch,  we  can  converse 
in  the  lowest  tones  with  as  much  ease  as  if  we  were 
side  by  side  instead  of  a  hundred  feet  apart. 

A  vivid  imagination  can  people  this  hall  with  ghosts. 
Here  some  of  the  fiercest  forensic  battles  were  fought 
in  early  days  over  protective  tariffs,  internal  improve- 
ments, and,  above  all,  negro  slavery.  Here  it  was  that 
Randolph's  piping  voice  denounced  the  Northern 
"dough-faces,"  and  here  Wilmot  launched  his  historic 

[64] 


"On  the  Hiir 

proviso.  Here  Alexander  H.  Stephens  made  his  last 
effort  to  resuscitate  the  moribund  Whig  party,  while 
Abraham  Lincoln  listened  to  his  argument  from  a 
seat  on  the  same  side  of  the  chamber.  Here  John 
Quincy  Adams  drew  upon  himself  the  fire  of  an  incensed 
opposition  by  championing  the  people's  right  to  peti- 
tion Congress,  and  here  he  fell  to  the  floor  a  dying  para- 
lytic. Here  John  Marshall,  the  greatest  of  our  Chief 
Justices,  administered  the  oath  of  oflice  to  two  early 
Presidents.  And  here  it  was  that  Henry  Clay,  as 
Speaker,  delivered  his  address  of  welcome  to  Lafayette 
as  the  guest  of  the  nation,  and  listened  with  becoming 
gravity  to  the  Marquis's  response  —  which,  as  it  after- 
ward appeared,  owed  its  excellent  English  to  the  fact 
that  Clay  had  composed  it  for  the  most  part  himself. 
The  conversion  of  the  hall  from  its  former  to  its 
present  uses  was  at  the  instance  of  the  late  Senator 
Morrill  of  Vermont,  who  procured  legislation  permitting 
every  State  in  the  Union  to  contribute  two  statues  of 
distinguished  citizens  to  this  temple  of  fame.  No 
restriction  having  been  placed  on  the  sizes  of  the  fig- 
ures, one  result  of  his  well-meant  effort  is  a  grotesque 
array  of  pigmies  and  giants,  some  of  the  personages 
biggest  in  life  being  most  diminutive  in  effigy,  while 
others  of  comparatively  insignificant  stature  are  here 
given    massive    proportions.     Most    of    the    notables 

[6s] 


tf^alks   About    Washi?igton 

thus  immortalized  are  persons  with  whose  names  we 
associate  a  story.  Here  stand,  for  example,  Ethan 
Allen  as  he  may  have  looked  when  demanding  the 
surrender  of  Fort  Ticonderoga  "in  the  name  of  the 
great  Jehovah  and  the  Continental  Congress"  ;  Charles 
Carroll,  who  wrote  Carrollton  after  his  name  so  that 
the  servants  of  the  King,  when  sent  to  hang  him  for 
signing  the  Declaration,  would  know  where  to  find 
him ;  sturdy  John  Stark,  who  snapped  his  fingers  at 
Congress  and  whipped  the  British  at  Bennington  in 
his  own  fashion ;  Muhlenberg,  the  patriot  parson, 
throwing  back  his  gown  at  the  close  of  his  sermon 
and  standing  forth  as  a  Continental  soldier ;  and  fiery 
Jim  Shields,  who  once  challenged  Lincoln  to  a  duel, 
but  was  laughed  out  of  it  when,  arriving  on  the  field, 
he  found  his  adversary  already  there,  mowing  the  tall 
grass  with  a  cutlass  to  make  the  fighting  easier ! 

Another  corridor  brings  us  to  the  present  Hall  of 
Representatives,  which  has  been  in  use  since  the  latter 
part  of  1857.  It  is  a  spacious  rectangular  room, 
with  a  high  ceiling  chiefly  of  glass,  through  which  it  is 
lighted  in  the  daytime  by  the  sun  and  after  nightfall 
by  the  modified  glow  of  electric  lamps  in  the  attic. 
Its  plan  is  that  of  an  amphitheater,  the  platform 
occupied  by  the  Speaker  being  at  the  lowest  level  in 
the   middle   of   the   long    southern    side.     Facing   this 

[66] 


«  On   the   Hiir 

are  the  concentric  curved  benches  of  the  members, 
Formerly  the  body  of  the  hall  was  filled  with  desks 
but,  as  the  membership  increased  with  the  population 
of  the  country,  these  were  found  to  take  up  too  much 
room,  not  to  mention  the  temptation  they  offered  for 
letter-writing  and  other  diversions.  Back  of  the 
Speaker's  chair  hang  a  full-length  portrait  of  Wash- 
ington by  Vanderlyn  and  one  of  Lafayette  by  Ary 
Schaeffer.  The  Washington  is  the  conventional  por- 
trait as  far  as  the  waist-line,  but  the  legs  were  borrowed 
from  a  prominent  citizen  of  Maryland,  who  had  a  better 
pair  than  the  General,  and  who  consented  to  pose  them 
for  the  benefit  of  posterity. 

Now  let  us  go  back  to  the  north  or  Senate  wing  of 
the  building.  On  our  way  we  swing  around  a  little 
open  air-well,  through  which  we  look  down  into  the 
corresponding  corridor  of  the  basement.  The  well  is 
surrounded  by  a  colonnade  supporting  the  base  of  a 
circular  skylight.  The  columns  are  worth  noticing, 
because  their  capitals  are  of  native  design,  using  the 
leaf  of  the  tobacco  plant  somewhat  conventionalized. 
They  date  from  the  period  when  the  clerk  of  the  United 
States  Supreme  Court,  whose  office  is  near  by,  used 
to  receive  a  part  of  his  compensation  in  tobacco. 

A  few  steps  more  bring  us  to  the  Court  itself,  sitting 
in  a  chamber  considerably  smaller  than  the  Hall  of 

[671 


Walks  About    Washington 

Statuary,  but  laid  out  on  the  same  plan.  This  was  the 
first  legislative  chamber  ever  occupied  in  the  Capitol, 
having  been  till  1859  the  Hall  of  the  Senate.  Here 
it  was  that  Thomas  Jefferson  was  twice  inaugurated 
as  President.  Here  Daniel  Webster  pronounced  the 
famous  "reply  to  Hayne"  which  every  boy  orator 
once  learned  to  spout  from  the  rostrum.  Here  Preston 
Brooks  made  his  murderous  assault  upon  Charles 
Sumner,  and  here  Henry  Clay  delivered  the  farewell 
address  which  we  used  to  find  in  all  the  school  readers. 
On  the  walls  of  this  chamber  once  hung  the  life-size  oil 
portraits  of  Louis  XVI.  and  Marie  Antoinette,  which 
were  presented  by  the  Government  of  France  to  the 
Government  of  the  United  States  just  after  our  Revo- 
lution, and  which  disappeared  when  the  British  burned 
the  Capitol  in  1 8 14.  The  room  has  always  suffered 
from  the  same  bad  acoustic  properties  which  caused 
the  House  of  Representatives  to  exchange  Its  old  hall 
for  its  new  one  ;  and  it  has  a  similar  whispering  gallery, 
so  that  a  court  officer  in  one  corner  can  communicate 
with  a  colleague  in  the  other  in  a  tone  so  low  as  to  be 
inaudible  to  any  one  else. 

Since  it  took  possession  here,  the  Court  has  rendered 
its  legal  tender  and  anti-trust  decisions,  and  a  number 
of  others  of  historic  importance.  In  this  room  sat, 
in  1877,  the  Electoral  Commission  which  decided  that 

[68] 


^'On   the   Hiir 

Mr.  Hayes  was  entitled  to  take  office  as  President. 
Here  occurs,  every  day  during  a  term,  the  one  ancient 
and  impressive  ceremonial  which  can  be  witnessed  at 
our  seat  of  government.  At  the  stroke  of  noon  there 
appears  at  the  right  corner  of  the  chamber  the  crier, 
who  in  a  loud  voice  announces  :  "The  Honorable  the 
Supreme  Court  of  the  United  States!"  All  present 
—  attorneys,  spectators,  and  minor  functionaries  — 
rise  and  remain  standing  while  the  members  of  the 
Court  enter  in  single  file,  the  Chief  Justice  leading. 
The  lawyers  bow  to  the  Justices,  who  return  the  bow 
before  sinking  into  their  chairs.  Thereupon  the  crier 
makes  his  second  announcement:  "Oyez!  Oyez ! 
Oyez !  All  persons  having  business  with  the  Honor- 
able the  Supreme  Court  of  the  United  States  are 
admonished  to  draw  near  and  give  attention,  as  the 
Court  is  now  sitting.  God  save  the  United  States 
and   this   Honorable   Court!" 

All  the  Justices  wear  gowns  of  black  silk.  John  Jay, 
the  first  Chief  Justice,  relieved  the  somber  monotony 
of  his  by  adding  a  collar  bound  with  scarlet,  but  the 
precedent  was  not  followed.  The  Court  has  sometimes 
been  styled  the  most  dignified  judicial  tribunal  in  the 
world,  and  doubtless  it  deserves  the  compliment. 
Certainly  no  American  need  blush  for  its  decorum. 
The  whole  atmosphere  of  its   chamber  is   in   keeping 

[691 


Walks   About    Washington 

with  the  fact,  reverently  voiced  by  one  of  its  old  colored 
servitors,  that  "dey  ain't  no  appeal  f'm  dis  yere 
Co't  'xcep'  to  God  Almighty."  The  arguments  made 
before  it  are  confined  to  calm,  unemotional  reasoning. 
The  pleaders  do  not  raise  their  voices,  or  forget  their 
manners,  or  indulge  in  personalities  or  oratory  while 
debating :  and  the  opinions  of  the  Court  are  recited 
with  a  quietness  almost  conversational.  These  opin- 
ions are  very  carefully  guarded  up  to  the  moment  they 
are  read  from  the  bench  ;  but  now  and  then,  after  a 
decision  has  become  history,  there  leaks  out  an  enter- 
taining story  of  how  it  came  to  be  rendered. 

One  such  instance  was  in  the  case  of  an  imported 
delicacy  which  might  have  been  classed  either  as  a 
preparation  of  fish  or  as  a  flavoring  sauce.  The  cus- 
toms ofiicers  had  levied  duty  on  it  as  a  sauce,  and  an 
importer  had  appealed.  The  Justices,  when  they 
came  to  compare  notes,  confessed  themselves  sorely 
puzzled,  and  one  of  them  suggested  that,  since  the 
technical  arguments  were  so  well  balanced,  it  might 
be  wise  to  fall  back  upon  common  sense.  That  even- 
ing he  carried  a  sample  of  the  disputed  substance  home 
to  his  wife,  who  was  an  expert  in  culinary  matters. 

"There,  my  dear,"  said  he,  "is  a  sauce  for  you 
to  try." 

With    one   look    at   the    contents   of    the    package, 

[70] 


^'On   the   Hiir' 

which  she  evidently  recognized,  she  exclaimed : 
"Pshaw!  That's  no  sauce;  that's  fish  —  didn't  you 
know  it  ?" 

The  next  day  the  Court  met  again  for  consultation, 
and  on  the  following  Monday  handed  down  a  decision 
overruling  the  customs  officers  and  sustaining  the 
importer's  appeal. 

Leaving  the  court-room  and  continuing  northward, 
we  come  to  the  present  Hall  of  the  Senate.  It  is  smaller 
than  the  present  Hall  of  Representatives  and  also 
cleaner  looking  and  more  comfortable.  When  Congress 
is  in  full  session,  the  contrast  may  be  extended  further 
so  as  to  include  what  we  hear  as  well  as  what  we  see, 
for  there  is  little  likeness  between  the  two  houses  in 
the  matter  of  orderliness  of  procedure.  But  that's 
another  story,  which  will  keep.  It  was  from  this 
chamber  that  the  Senators  from  the  seceding  States 
took  their  departure  in  i860  and  1861.  For  years 
afterward  the  first  request  of  every  visiting  stranger 
was  to  be  shown  the  seats  formerly  occupied  by  these 
men.  As  long  as  the  old  doorkeeper  of  the  Senate, 
Captain  Bassett,  lived,  he  was  reputed  to  be  the  only 
person  who  knew  the  history  of  every  desk  on  the 
floor.  Whether  he  transmitted  this  knowledge  to 
any  of  his  assistants  before  his  death,  I  cannot  say ; 
but  more  than  once  he  saved  some  of  the  furniture 

[711 


Walks   About    Washington 

from  Injury  at  the  hands  of  wanton  vandals  or  curio 
collectors. 

During  the  early  days  of  the  Civil  War,  a  party  of 
Northern  zouaves,  passing  through  the  city  on  their 
way  to  the  front,  entered  the  Senate  Hall  during  a 
recess  and  tried  to  Identify  Davis's  desk.  They 
frankly  avowed  their  purpose  of  destroying,  If  pos- 
sible, the  last  trace  of  the  Confederate  President's 
connection  with  the  United  States  Government ;  but 
Bassett  refused  to  be  coaxed,  bribed,  or  bullied  Into 
revealing  the  information  they  wished.  Their  persist- 
ency presently  aroused  his  fears  lest  they  might  come 
back  later  and  renew  their  attempt  in  his  absence ; 
so  he  resorted  to  diplomacy  and  made  them  a  little 
speech,  reminding  them  that,  no  matter  what  Mr. 
Davis  might  have  done  to  provoke  their  indignation, 
the  desk  at  which  he  had  sat  was  not  his  property, 
but  that  of  the  Government  which  they  had  come 
South  to  defend.  His  reasoning  had  its  effect,  and, 
admitting  that  he  was  right,  they  went  away  peaceably. 

Back  of  the  Senate  chamber  are  two  rooms  set  apart 
for  the  President  and  Vice-president  respectively. 
Till  lately,  the  President's  room  as  a  rule  has  been  occu- 
pied only  during  a  few  closing  hours  of  a  session,  when 
the  President  wishes  to  be  readily  accessible  for  the 
signing  of   such  acts  as  he  approves.     Sometimes   he 

[72] 


.    "0;^  the  Hiir 

has  spent  the  entire  last  night  of  a  Congress  here, 
returning  to  the  White  House  for  breakfast  and  coming 
to  the  Capitol  again  for  an  hour  or  two  before  noon. 
President  Wilson  has  used  the  room  more  than  any  of 
his  recent  predecessors,  going  there  to  consult  the  lead- 
ing members  of  his  party  in  Congress  while  legislation 
is  in  course  of  preparation  or  passage. 

The  Vice-president's  room  has  been  more  constantly 
in  use  as  a  retiring  room  for  its  occupant  during  the 
intervals  when  he  is  not  presiding  over  the  sessions  of 
the  Senate.  On  its  wall  has  hung  for  many  years  a 
little  gilt-framed  mirror  for  which  John  Adams,  while 
Vice-president,  paid  forty  dollars,  and  which  was 
brought  with  the  other  appurtenances  of  the  Senate 
from  Philadelphia  when  the  Government  removed  its 
headquarters  to  Washington.  Many  of  the  frugal 
founders  of  the  republic  were  scandalized  at  the 
extravagance  of  the  purchase,  and  one  gravely  intro- 
duced in  the  Senate  a  resolution  censuring  Adams  for 
having  drawn  thus  heavily  upon  the  public  funds  "to 
gratify  his  personal  vanity."  What  these  good  men 
would  say  if  they  were  to  revisit  the  Capitol  now  and 
see  in  the  same  room  with  the  forty-dollar  mirror  a 
silver  inkstand  that  cost  two  hundred  dollars  and  a 
clock  that  cost  a  thousand,  we  can  only  imagine.  It 
was   in   this    room,    by   the   way,    that   Vice-president 

[73] 


H^alks   About    JVashington 

Wilson  died  in  November,  1875,  after  an  attack  of 
illness  which  suddenly  overcame  him  at  the  Capitol 
and  was  too  severe  to  justify  his  being  carried  to  his 
home. 

On  the  floor  below  are  two  other  points  of  interest. 
We  shall  do  well  to  descend,  not  by  the  broad  marble 
staircases  in  the  north  wing,  but  by  an  old  iron-railed 
and  curved  flight  of  stone  steps  a  little  south  of  the 
Supreme  Court.  Note,  in  passing,  its  columns,  as 
truly  American  in  design  as  those  above-stairs  to  which 
attention  has  already  been  directed ;  for  they  conven- 
tionalize our  Indian  corn,  the  stalks  making  the  body 
of  a  pillar  and  the  leaves  and  ears  the  capital.  The  first 
point  we  shall  visit  is  the  crypt,  which  is  directly  under 
the  rotunda.  It  is  a  vaulted  chamber  originally 
intended  as  a  resting-place  for  the  body  of  George 
Washington.  There  was  to  have  been  a  circular  open- 
ing in  the  ceiling,  so  that  visitors  in  the  rotunda  could 
look  down  upon  the  sarcophagus,  above  which  a  sus- 
pended taper  was  to  be  kept  continually  burning. 
The  light  was  duly  hung  there,  and  not  extinguished 
for  many  years ;  but  as  Washington's  heirs  were  un- 
willing to  allow  his  remains  to  leave  Mount  Vernon, 
the  rest  of  the  plan  was  abandoned. 

A  little  way  north  of  the  crypt  we  come  to  the  room 
that   the    Supreme    Court    occupied    for    about    forty 

[74I 


Rock  Creek 


''On   the   Hiir' 

years  after  the  restoration  of  the  Capitol.  Out  of  it 
was  sent  the  first  message  with  which  Samuel  F.  B. 
Morse  announced  to  the  world  the  success  of  his  in- 
vention, the  magnetic  telegraph.  Morse  was  perfectly 
convinced  that  his  device  was  workable,  but  he  had 
exhausted  his  means  before  being  able  to  make  a  satis- 
factory experiment.  He  therefore  asked  Congress  for 
an  appropriation  to  equip  a  trial  line  between  Wash- 
ington and  Baltimore.  Some  of  the  members  scoifed 
at  his  appeal  as  visionary ;  others  intimated  that  he 
was  trying  to  impose  upon  the  Government ;  only  a 
handful  seemed  to  feel  enough  confidence  in  him  and 
his  project  to  vote  for  the  appropriation.  After  a 
discouraging  struggle  lasting  till  the  third  of  March, 
1843,  Morse  was  at  the  Capitol  watching  the  dying 
hours  of  the  Congress,  when  his  friends  advised  him 
that  his  cause  was  hopeless,  and  he  returned  to  his 
hotel  and  went  to  bed. 

Before  breakfast  the  next  morning  he  received  a 
call  from  Miss  Annie  Ellsworth,  daughter  of  the  Com- 
missioner of  Patents,  who  brought  him  the  news  that 
after  he  had  left  the  Capitol  his  appropriation  had 
gone  through,  and  the  President  had  signed  the  bill 
just  before  midnight.  To  reward  her  as  the  bearer  of 
glad  tidings,  Morse  invited  her  to  frame  the  first  message 
to  be  sent  to  Baltimore.     It  took  more  than  a  year  to 

[75] 


Walks  About    Washington 

build  the  line  and  insure  its  successful  operation ; 
but  on  May  24,  1844,  in  the  presence  of  a  gathering 
which  filled  the  court  chamber,  the  inventor  seated 
himself  at  the  instrument,  and  Miss  Ellsworth  placed 
in  his  hand  a  phrase  she  had  selected  from  the  twenty- 
third  verse  of  the  twenty-third  chapter  of  the  Book  of 
Numbers:  "What  hath  God  wrought!"  In  less  time 
than  it  takes  to  tell  the  facts,  the  operator  in  Baltimore 
had  received  the  message  and  ticked  it  back  without  an 
error.  In  that  hour  of  his  triumph  over  skepticism 
and  abuse,  Morse  could  have  asked  almost  anything 
of  Congress  without  fear  of  repulse. 

Not  all  the  associations  which  cling  about  the  Capi- 
tol are  confined  to  politics  or  legislation,  science  or 
business.  The  old  Hall  of  Representatives  was,  in 
the  early  days  of  the  last  century,  long  used  for  reli- 
gious meetings  on  Sundays,  the  Speaker's  desk  being 
converted  temporarily  into  a  pulpit.  One  of  the 
first  preachers  who  held  stated  services  there  was  a 
Swedenborgian.  When  the  custom  had  become  well 
established,  most  of  the  clergymen  of  the  city  consented 
to  take  the  Sundays  in  a  certain  order  of  succession. 
Sir  Augustus  Foster,  a  secretary  of  the  British  Lega- 
tion during  Jefferson's  administration,  has  left  us  his 
impressions  of  the  meetings  : 

"A  church  service  can  certainly  never  be  called  an 

[76] 


^^On   the  Hiir' 

amusement ;  but,  from  the  variety  of  persons  who 
were  allowed  to  preach  in  the  House  of  Representatives, 
there  doubtless  was  some  alloy  of  curiosity  in  the 
motives  which  led  one  to  go  there.  Though  the  regu- 
lar Chaplain  was  a  Presbyterian,  sometimes  a  Metho- 
dist, a  minister  of  the  Church  of  England,  or  a  Quaker, 
sometimes  even  a  woman,  took  the  Speaker's  chair, 
and  I  do  not  think  there  was  much  devotion  among 
the  majority.  The  New  Englanders,  generally  speak- 
ing, are  very  religious  ;  but  though  there  are  many 
exceptions,  I  cannot  say  so  much  for  the  Marylanders, 
and  still  less  for  the  Virginians." 

Probably  this  comment  on  the  worldly  element  enter- 
ing into  the  meetings  was  called  forth  by  their  gradual 
degeneration  into  a  social  function.  The  hall  came  to 
be  regarded  as  a  pleasant  Sunday  gathering-place  for 
friends  who  were  able  to  see  little  of  one  another  during 
the  secular  week.  They  clustered  in  knots  around  the 
open  fireplaces,  apparently  quite  as  interested  in  the 
intervals  afforded  for  a  bit  of  gossip  as  in  the  sermon. 
The  President  was  accustomed  to  attend  from  time  to 
time ;  and  possibly  it  was  by  his  order  that  the  Marine 
Band,  nearly  one  hundred  strong  and  attired  in  their 
brilliant  red  uniforms,  were  present  in  the  gallery  and 
played  the  hymn  tunes,  as  well  as  some  stirring  march 
music.     Their  attendance  was   discontinued   later,   as 

[77] 


U^alks   About    IVashington 

their  performances  attracted  many  common  idlers  to  a 
hall  already  crowded  almost  to  suffocation  with  ladies 
and  gentlemen  of  fashion,  and  thus  increased  the 
confusion. 

Partly  as  a  result  of  this  use  of  the  hall,  the  habit  of 
treating  Sunday  as  a  day  for  social  festivities  of  all 
sorts  reached  a  point  where  the  strict  Sabbatarians  felt 
called  to  remonstrate.  One,  a  clergyman  named 
Breckenridge,  preached  a  sermon  denouncing  the 
irreligious  frivolities  of  the  time,  which  created  a  great 
sensation.  He  addressed  his  remarks  directly  to  Con- 
gress. "It  is  not  the  people,"  said  he,  "who  will 
suffer  for  these  enormities.  It  is  the  Government. 
As  with  Nineveh  of  old,  your  temples  and  your  palaces 
will  be  burned  to  the  ground,  for  it  is  by  fire  that  this 
sin  has  usually  been  punished  !"  And  he  cited  instance 
after  instance  from  Bible  history,  showing  how  cities, 
dwellings,  and  persons  had  been  burned  for  disrespect 
of  divine  law. 

One  day  in  the  fall  of  1814,  after  the  British  had 
left  the  city  scarred  with  blackened  ruins,  Mr.  Breck- 
enridge was  passing  the  Octagon  house,  when  he  was 
hailed  by  Dolly  Madison  from  the  doorway. 

"When  I  listened  to  that  threatening  sermon  of 
yours,"  she  exclaimed,  "I  little  thought  that  its  warn- 
ings would  be  realized  so  soon." 

[78I 


''On   the  Hiir 

"Oh,  Madam,"  he  answered,  "I  trust  that  the 
chastening  of  the  Lord  may  not  have  been  in  vain!" 

It  was,  however,  as  far  as  any  permanent  change  in 
the  habits  of  the  people  was  concerned.  There  was 
a  brief  interval  of  greater  sobriety  due  to  the  sad  plight 
of  the  community ;  then  Sunday  amusements  resumed 
their  sway  with  as  much  vigor  as  of  old. 

Although  to  the  eye  of  the  casual  visitor  the  Capitol 
seems  so  quiet  and  well-ordered  a  place  that  it  prac- 
tically takes  care  of  itself,  the  truth  is  that  it  is  con- 
tinually under  pretty  rigid  surveillance.  It  has  a  uni- 
formed corps  of  special  police,  whose  jurisdiction  covers 
everything  within  the  limits  of  Capitol  Park ;  besides 
this,  the  Superintendent  of  the  Capitol  has  general 
oversight  of  the  building,  and  the  officers  of  the  House 
and  Senate  look  after  their  respective  wings.  When 
Thomas  B.  Reed  of  Maine  became  Speaker,  he  found 
the  House  wing  a  squatting  ground  for  a  small  army 
of  petty  merchants  who  had  crept  in  one  by  one  and 
established  booths  for  the  sale  of  sandwiches  and  pies, 
cigars,  periodicals,  picture  cards,  and  souvenirs,  ob- 
structing the  highways  of  communication  between  one 
part  of  the  building  and  another.  He  proceeded  to 
sweep  them  all  out.  There  was  loud  wailing  among 
the  ousted,  and  some  who  could  command  a  little 
political  Influence  brought  It  to  bear  on  him,  but  in 

[79l 


Walks   About    Washington 

vain ;  and  for  more  than  twenty  years  thereafter  the 
corridors  remained  free  from  these  intruders.  With 
the  incoming  of  the  Sixty-third  Congress,  however,  dis- 
ciphne  began  to  relax,  and,  unless  the  House  acquires 
another  Speaker  with  Mr.  Reed's  notions  of  propriety 
and  the  force  of  will  to  compel  obedience,  we  shall 
probably  see  the  hucksters  camping  once  more  on  the 
old  trail. 

Outside  of  the  building  the  rules  are  as  well  enforced 
as  inside.  When  Coxey's  Army  of  the  Commonweal 
marched  upon  Washington  in  1894,  its  leader  adver- 
tised his  intention  to  make  a  speech  from  the  Capitol 
steps,  calling  upon  Congress  to  provide  work  and 
wages  for  all  the  idle  laborers  in  the  country.  Under 
the  law,  no  harangue  or  oration  may  be  delivered  any- 
where on  the  Capitol  grounds  without  the  express 
consent  of  the  presiding  officers  of  the  two  chambers  of 
Congress.  Remembering  the  way  the  lawmakers  had 
been  intimidated  by  a  mob  at  Philadelphia  in  the  early 
days  of  the  republic,  neither  the  Speaker  nor  the  Presi- 
dent of  the  Senate  was  willing  that  Coxey  should  carry 
out  his  plan  ;  and  the  Capitol  police,  without  violence 
or  display  of  temper,  made  short  work  of  the  proposed 
mass  meeting.  On  another  occasion,  the  performers 
for  a  moving-picture  show  attempted  to  use  the  steps 
of  the  Capitol  as  a  background  for  a  scene  in  which  a 

[80] 


"On   the  Hiir 

man  made  up  to  resemble  the  President  of  the  United 
States  was  to  play  an  undignified  part ;  the  poHce 
pounced  down  upon  the  company,  confiscating  the 
apparatus  and  escorting  the  actors  to  the  nearest 
station-house.  A  Hke  fate  befel  an  automobiHst  who, 
on  a  wager,  tried  to  drive  his  machine  up  the  steps  of 
the  main  portico.  Occasionally  a  bicycler,  ambitious 
to  descend  this  staircase  at  full  speed,  has  proved  too 
quick-witted  for  the  officers,  but  as  a  rule  they  are  at 
hand  when  needed. 

Now  that  we  are  outside,  let  us  look  around.  To 
the  eastward  lies  the  part  of  the  city  broadly  desig- 
nated as  Capitol  Hill.  As  far  as  the  eye  can  reach,  it 
is  a  beautiful,  evenly  graded  plateau  —  an  ideal  resi- 
dence region  as  far  as  natural  topography,  verdure, 
sunshine,  and  pure  air  are  concerned.  It  is  the  part 
which  George  Washington  and  other  promoters  of  the 
federal  city  picked  out  for  its  residential  end,  and  the 
Capitol  was  built  so  as  to  face  it.  These  circumstances 
made  it  a  favorite  locality  for  speculative  investment, 
and  the  prices  at  which  early  purchasers  of  land  held 
out  against  later  comers  sealed  its  fate :  the  tide  of 
favor  turned  toward  the  opposite  end  of  the  city,  and 
the  development  of  the  northwest  quarter  took  a 
start  which  has  never  since  halted.  The  first  plans  of 
Capitol  Park  included   on    its    eastern    side    a    pretty 

[8i] 


Walks  About    Washington 

little  fish-pond,  circular  in  shape,  which  must  have 
been  about  where  the  two  raised  flower-beds  with 
mottled  marble  copings  now  flank  the  driveway  to  First 
Street. 

The  west  front  of  the  Capitol  overlooks  a  gentle 
slope  pleasantly  turfed  and  shaded.  The  building 
itself  descends  the  slope  a  little  way  by  an  esplanade 
and  a  series  of  marble  terraces,  from  which  broad  flights 
of  steps  lead  down  nearly  to  the  main  street  level. 
The  perspective  view  of  the  Capitol  is  much  more  im- 
pressive from  this  side  than  from  the  other,  thanks  to 
an  admirable  piece  of  landscape  gardening.  In  old 
times,  the  lawns  on  the  west  side  were  used  by  the 
residents  of  the  neighborhood  for  croquet  grounds, 
and  the  whole  park  was  enclosed  in  an  iron  fence,  with 
gates  that  were  shut  by  the  watchmen  at  nine  every 
evening  against  pedestrians,  and  at  a  somewhat  later 
hour  against  carriages.  With  characteristic  impatience 
of  such  restraints,  sometimes  a  Congressman  who  had 
stayed  at  the  Capitol  past  the  closing  hour  would 
save  himself  the  trouble  of  calling  a  guard  to  open 
the  gate,  by  smashing  the  lock  with  a  stone.  The 
increasing  frequency  of  such  incidents  undoubtedly 
had  much  to  do  with  causing  the  removal  of  the  fence. 

No  point  in  the  city  affords  so  fine  facilities  for 
fixing  L'Enfant's  plan  in  the  mind  of  the  visitor  and 

[82] 


>  ^'On   the  Hiir 

enabling  him  to  find  his  way  about  the  older  parts  of 
Washington,  as  the  Capitol  dome.  A  spiral  staircase, 
the  doors  to  which  open  from  obscure  parts  of  two 
corridors,  leads  first  to  the  inside  circular  balcony 
crowning  the  rotunda.  This  is  worth  a  few  minutes' 
delay  to  test  its  quality  as  a  whispering  gallery.  The 
attendant  in  charge  will  show  you  how,  and,  if  you 
can  lure  him  into  telling  you  some  of  the  funny  things 
he  has  seen  and  heard  in  his  eyrie,  you  will  be  well 
repaid. 

More  climbing  will  bring  you  to  an  outside  perch, 
which  forms  a  sort  of  collar  for  the  lantern  surmount- 
ing the  dome.  Now  open  a  plainly  printed  map  of 
Washington  and  hold  it  so  that  the  points  of  the 
compass  on  the  map  correspond  with  those  of  the  city 
below  you.  With  a  five  minutes'  walk  around  the 
base  of  the  lantern,  to  give  you  the  view  from  every 
side,  you  will  have  mastered  the  whole  scheme  designed 
by  L'Enfant.  Here  are  the  four  quarters  —  north- 
east, southeast,  southwest,  northwest  —  as  clearly 
spread  before  you  on  the  surface  of  the  earth  as  on  the 
paper  in  your  hand.  Here  is  the  Mall,  with  its  grass 
and  trees,  leading  up  to  the  Washington  Monument 
and  abutting  on  the  executive  reservation  where  stand 
the  White  House,  the  Treasury,  and  the  State,  War 
and   Navy   Department   buildings.     Well   out   to   the 

[831 


Walks   About    Washington 

northward  you  can  descry  a  tower  which  fixes  the  site 
of  the  Soldiers'  Home,  and  to  the  southward  the  Poto- 
mac, flowing  past  the  War  College  and  the  Navy 
Yard.  East  of  you  loom  up  the  hills  of  Anacostia. 
On  all  sides  you  see  the  lettered  streets  running  east 
and  west,  intersected  by  the  numbered  streets  run- 
ning north  and  south,  while,  cutting  both  diagonally 
at  various  angles,  but  in  pursuance  of  a  systematic 
and  easily  grasped  plan,  are  the  avenues  named  in 
honor  of  the  various  States  of  the  Union.  Once  let 
this  chart  fasten  itself  in  your  mind,  and  there  is  no 
reason  why,  total  stranger  though  you  may  be,  you 
should  have  any  difficulty  in  finding  your  way  about 
Washington. 


[84] 


Capitol,  from  New  Jersey  Avenue 


CHAPTER   IV 
THESE  OUR  LAWMAKERS 

THE  House  of  Representatives,  albeit  presenting 
an  average  of  conduct  equal  to  that  of  any  corre- 
sponding chamber  in  the  world,  is  a  rough-and-tumble 
body.  It  is  apt  to  carry  partisan  antagonisms 
to  extremes  and  wrangle  over  anything  that  comes 
up,  with  accusations  and  recriminations,  and  at  rare 
intervals  an  exchange  of  blows.  Repeatedly  I  have 
seen  the  Sergeant-at-Arms  lift  his  mace  and  march 
down  one  aisle  and  up  another,  to  compose  dis- 
turbances which  seemed  to  threaten  a  sequel  of  riot, 
while  the  Speaker  pounded  his  desk  in  an  effort 
to  overcome  the  clamor  of  several  members  trying  to 
talk  at  once.  By  laxity  of  discipline  and  force  of 
custom,  there  is  a  degree  of  freedom  here,  in  even  a 
peaceful  discussion,  unknown  to  the  Senate.  Mem- 
bers will  bring,  to  exemplify  their  statements  in  a 
tariff  debate,  samples  of  merchandise  —  a  suit  of 
clothes,  a  basket  of  fruit,  a  jar  of  sweetmeats,  perhaps. 
One  day  a  debater,   discussing  olive  oil,   accidentally 

[8s] 


Walks   About    Washingtofi 

dropped  a  bottle  of  it  on  the  floor,  and  several  of 
his  colleagues  lost  their  footing  in  crossing  the  scene 
of  the  disaster.  Another,  who  had  a  pocketful  of 
matches  designed  for  illustrative  purposes,  suddenly 
found  his  clothes  ablaze  and  made  a  fiery  bolt  for  a 
water-tank.  Still  another,  inflamed  by  his  own  elo- 
quence in  trying  to  show  how  Congress  ought  to  wring 
the  life  out  of  an  odious  monopoly,  impetuously  laid 
hands  upon  a  small  and  inoffensive  fellow  member 
who  happened  to  sit  near  and  shook  him  till  his  teeth 
rattled,  amid  roars  of  delight  from  every  one  except 
the  victim. 

Usually,  the  Senate  is  as  staid  as  the  House  is  up- 
roarious. All  routine  business  is  transacted  there 
"by  unanimous  consent";  it  is  only  when  some  really 
important  issue  arises  that  the  Senators  quarrel  pub- 
licly. When  a  serious  debate  is  on,  there  is  no  com- 
motion :  every  Senator  who  wishes  to  speak  sends  his 
name  to  the  presiding  officer,  or  rises  during  a  lull  and 
announces  his  purpose  of  addressing  the  Senate  on  a 
specified  day.  The  rest  of  the  Senators  respect  his 
privilege,  and,  if  he  is  a  man  of  consequence,  a  goodly 
proportion  of  them  will  be  in  their  seats  to  hear  him. 
If  a  Senator  is  absent  from  the  chamber  when  a  matter 
arises  which  might  concern  him,  some  one  is  apt  to 
suggest  deferring  its  consideration  till  he  can  be  pres- 

[86] 


These   our    Lawmakers 

ent.  It  is  the  same  way  with  appointments  to  office 
which  require  confirmation  by  the  Senate  :  a  Senator 
objecting  to  a  candidate  nominated  from  his  State 
can  count  upon  abundant  support  from  his  fellow 
Senators,  every  one  of  whom  realizes  that  it  may  be 
his  turn  next  to  need  support  in  a  similar  contingency. 
This  is  what  is  called  "Senatorial  courtesy."  So  well 
is  it  understood  that  no  unfair  advantage  will  be  taken 
of  any  one's  absence,  that  the  attendance  in  the  cham- 
ber sometimes  becomes  very  thin.  An  instance  is 
often  cited  when  the  Vice-president,  discovering  only 
one  person  on  the  floor  at  the  beginning  of  a  day's 
session,  rapped  with  his  gavel  and  solemnly  an- 
nounced:  "The  Senator  from  Massachusetts  will  be 
in  order !" 

The  strong  contrast  between  the  two  chambers  has 
existed  ever  since  the  creation  of  Congress.  This  is 
not  wonderful  when  we  reflect  that  the  Senate  was  for 
a  long  time  made  up  of  men  chosen  by  the  State  legis- 
latures from  a  social  class  well  removed  from  the  masses 
of  the  people,  and  that  they  held  office  for  a  six-year 
term,  thus  lording  it  over  the  members  of  the  House 
of  Representatives,  who,  besides  being  drawn  directly 
from  the  rank  and  file  of  the  body  politic,  had  to  strug- 
gle for  reelection  every  two  years.  In  the  early  days, 
the  Senators  were  noted  for  their  rich  attire  and  their 

[871 


Walks   About    Washington 

great  gravity  of  manner ;  whereas  most  of  the  Repre- 
sentatives persisted,  while  sitting  in  the  House  during 
the  debates,  in  wearing  their  big  cocked  hats  set  "fore 
and  aft"  on  their  heads.  Whether  the  Senate  sat 
covered  or  bareheaded  for  the  first  few  years  of  its 
existence,  we  have  only  indirect  evidence,  as  it  then 
kept  its  doors  closed  against  everybody,  even  members 
of  the  House,  Little  by  little  a  more  liberal  spirit 
asserted  itself,  until  the  doors  were  opened  to  the 
public  for  a  certain  part  of  every  morning,  with  the 
proviso  that  they  should  be  closed  whenever  the  sub- 
jects of  discussion  seemed  to  require  secrecy.  By 
common  consent,  these  subjects  were  limited  to  cer- 
tain classes  of  business  proposed  by  the  President, 
like  the  ratification  of  treaties  and  the  confirmation  of 
appointments  to  office.  Such  matters  remain  confi- 
dential to  this  day,  and  the  Senate  holds  itself  ready 
to  exclude  spectators  and  go  into  secret  session  at  any 
moment,  on  the  request  of  a  single  Senator. 

As  a  secret  session  is  always  supposed  to  be  for  the 
purpose  of  discussing  a  Presidential  communication, 
the  fiction  is  embalmed  in  the  form  of  a  motion  "that 
the  Senate  proceed  to  the  consideration  of  executive 
business."  This  is  the  signal  for  the  doorkeepers  to 
evict  the  occupants  of  the  galleries  and  shut  the  doors 
leading   into   the   corridors ;    but   sometimes   the   real 

[88] 


These   our   Lawmakers 

reason  for  the  request  is  widely  removed  from  its  pre- 
text. I  have  known  it  to  be  offered  for  the  purpose  of 
cutting  short  the  exhibition  which  a  tipsy  Senator  was 
making  of  himself ;  or  to  prevent  a  tedious  airing  of 
grievances  by  a  Senator  who  had  quarreled  with  the 
President  over  the  dispensation  of  patronage  in  his 
State;  or  to  silence  a  Senator  who,  objecting  to  the 
negotiation  of  a  certain  treaty,  kept  referring  to  it  in 
open  debate  while  it  was  still  pending  under  the  seal  of 
confidence.  In  this  last  instance,  the  offending  Sena- 
tor was  so  obstinate  of  purpose  that  the  doors  had  to 
be  closed  and  reopened  several  times  in  a  single  day. 

On  the  face  of  things,  there  is  no  reason  why  the 
President  should  not  attend  any  session  of  the  Senate 
at  which  business  of  his  originating  is  under  debate. 
No  President  since  the  first,  however,  has  made  the 
experiment.  Washington  attended  three  secret  ses- 
sions, but  was  so  angered  by  the  Senate's  referring  to 
a  committee  sundry  questions  which  he  insisted  should 
be  settled  on  the  spot,  that  he  quitted  the  chamber, 
emphatically  vowing  that  he  would  waste  no  more 
time  on  such  trifling.  The  Senators  excused  their 
conduct  by  saying  that  they  were  embarrassed  in 
talking  about  the  President  and  his  motives  while  he 
was  sitting  there. 

The  custom  of  wearing  their  hats  while  transacting 

[89] 


Walks  About    Washington 

business  was  continued  by  the  Representatives  for 
fifty  years  or  more.  Even  the  Speaker,  as  long  as  he 
sat  in  his  chair,  would  keep  his  hat  on,  though  he  was 
accustomed  to  remove  it  when  he  stood  to  address  the 
House.  The  Senators,  whatever  may  have  been  their 
practice  during  the  years  of  their  seclusion,  distin- 
guished themselves  from  the  Representatives  imme- 
diately thereafter  by  sitting  with  bared  heads.  They 
also  avoided  the  habit,  common  in  the  House,  of  put- 
ting their  feet  up  on  the  nearest  elevated  object  — 
usually  a  desk-lid  —  and  lolling  on  their  spines.  Eng- 
lish visitors,  though  accustomed  to  the  wearing  of  hats 
in  their  own  House  of  Commons,  nevertheless  found  a 
text  for  criticism  in  the  way  the  American  Represen- 
tatives did  it ;  and  they  all  had  something  severe  to 
say  of  the  prevalence  of  tobacco-chewing  in  the  House, 
with  its  accompaniment  of  spitting,  as  Mrs.  Trollope 
put  it,  "to  an  excess  that  decency  forbids  me  to  de- 
scribe." Less  offensive  to  the  taste  of  our  visitors 
from  abroad  was  the  indulgence  in  snuff-taking,  which 
was  so  general  that  boxes  or  jars  were  set  up  in  con- 
venient places  inside  of  both  halls,  and  it  was  made 
the  duty  of  certain  employees  to  keep  these  always 
filled  with  a  fine  brand  of  snuff.  Any  of  the  most 
eloquent  orators  in  Congress  was  liable  to  stop  at 
regular  intervals  in  a  speech  to  help  himself  to  a  large 

[90] 


These   our   Lawmakers 

pinch,  bury  his  face  in  a  bandanna  handkerchief,  and 
have  it  out  with  nature.  A  few  of  the  lawmakers, 
indeed,  cultivated  snuff-taking  as  a  fine  art,  and  were 
proud  of  their  reputations  for  dexterity  in  it.  Henry 
Clay  was  one  of  the  most  skilful. 

While  we  are  on  the  subject  of  indulgences,  we  must 
not  overlook  a  drink  called  switchel,  which  was  very 
popular,  being  compounded  of  rum,  ginger,  molasses, 
and  water.  Every  member  was  allowed  then,  as  now, 
in  addition  to  his  salary  and  traveling  expenses,  a  fixed 
supply  of  "stationery";  and  this  term,  which  was 
elastic  enough  to  include  everything  from  pens  and 
paper  to  jack-knives  and  razors,  was  stretched  to  cover 
the  delectable  switchel  under  the  thin  disguise  of 
"sirup."  In  later  years,  when  a  wave  of  teetotal- 
ism  had  swept  over  Washington,  and  the  open  sale  of 
alcoholic  drinks  in  the  restaurants  of  the  Capitol  was 
under  a  temporary  ban,  any  member  who  wished  a 
drink  of  whisky  ordered  it  as  "cold  tea,"  and  it  was 
served  to  him  in  a  china  cup.  This  stratagem  fell 
into  marked  discredit  when  one  of  the  most  respectable 
and  abstemious  members  of  the  House,  who  had  never 
tasted  intoxicating  liquor  of  any  sort,  ordered  cold  tea 
in  entire  good  faith  to  clear  his  throat  in  the  midst 
of  a  speech,  and  became  maudlin  before  he  was  aware 
that  anything  was  amiss. 

[911 


Walks  About    Washington 

Besides  sprawling  with  their  feet  higher  than  their 
heads,  and  otherwise  airing  their  contempt  for  con- 
ventional etiquette,  many  of  the  old-time  Represen- 
tatives felt  free  to  read  newspapers  while  debates  were 
going  on  around  them,  indifferent  to  their  disturbance 
of  both  orators  and  audience.  The  first  pointed  re- 
buke of  this  practice  was  administered  by  James  K. 
Polk  when  Speaker  of  the  House.  He  noticed  one 
morning  that  substantially  every  Representative  had 
a  newspaper  in  hand  when  the  gavel  fell  for  beginning 
the  day's  session.  The  journal  was  read,  but  nobody 
paid  any  attention  to  it,  and  then  the  Speaker  made 
his  usual  announcement  that  the  House  was  ready 
for  business.  Still  everybody  remained  buried  in  the 
morning's  news.  After  another  vain  attempt  to  set  the 
machinery  in  motion,  Mr.  Polk  quietly  drew  a  news- 
paper from  his  own  pocket,  seated  himself  with  his 
back  toward  the  House,  spread  the  sheet  open  before 
him,  and  ostentatiously  immersed  himself  in  its  printed 
contents.  One  by  one  the  Representatives  finished 
their  reading,  and  perhaps  a  quarter  of  an  hour  passed 
before  there  came  from  all  sides  an  irregular  volley  of 
calls:  "Mr.  Speaker!"  "Mr.  Speaker!"  Mr.  Polk 
ignored  them  till  one  of  the  baffled  members  moved 
that  the  House  proceed  to  the  election  of  a  presiding 
officer,  to  take  the  place  of  the  Speaker,  who  appeared 

[92] 


These   our   Lawmakers 

to  be  absent.  This  brought  Mr.  Polk  to  his  feet  with 
the  remark  that  he  not  only  was  present,  but  had  noti- 
fied the  House  that  it  was  ready  for  business  and  had 
received  no  response.  The  House  took  the  joke  in 
good  part  and  showed  by  its  conduct  thereafter  that 
it  was  not  above  profiting  by  the  Speaker's  reproof. 

Although  women  were  admitted  as  spectators  to  the 
sessions  of  both  chambers  on  the  same  terms  as  men, 
there  was  for  many  years  an  undercurrent  of  feeling 
against  their  encroachments.  There  was  limited  room 
in  either  hall  for  their  accommodation  behind  the  col- 
onnade. In  this  space  —  the  original  "lobby"  — 
there  was  an  open  fireplace  at  each  end,  and  it  soon 
became  a  common  complaint  among  the  Senators  that 
the  feminine  guests  drew  the  sofas  up  in  front  of  the 
fire  and  thus  effectually  shut  off  the  warmth  from  every 
one  else.  Aaron  Burr,  while  Vice-president,  was  the 
first  person  in  authority  to  take  cognizance  of  this 
indictment.  He  notified  the  visiting  women  that 
after  a  certain  date  they  must  cease  coming  into  the 
lobby  and  find  seats  in  the  gallery.  They  were  appro- 
priately indignant  and  declared  an  almost  unanimous 
boycott  against  the  Senate.  Vice-president  Clinton 
was  of  a  different  temper  from  his  predecessor  and  let 
them  all  come  back  again.  By  degrees,  however,  as 
the  privileges  of  the  floor  became  more  and  more  re- 

[93] 


Walks  About    Washington 

stricted  in  both  chambers,  the  women  were  given  a 
special  gallery  for  themselves. 

From  the  time  they  began  coming  to  Congress  in 
any  multitude,  the  fair  visitors  have  made  their  pres- 
ence felt.  In  the  House  one  day  John  Randolph  drew 
attention  to  them  by  halting  a  debate  to  point  a 
long,  skinny  finger  in  their  direction  and  snarl  out : 
"Mr.  Speaker,  what,  pray,  are  all  these  women  doing 
here,  so  out  of  place  in  this  arena  1  Sir,  they  had 
much  better  be  at  home  attending  to  their  knitting!" 
In  spite  of  that,  they  continued  to  come  and  to  attract 
attention,  till  the  number  of  members  who  habitually 
quitted  their  seats  to  repair  to  the  gallery  and  pay 
their  devoirs  to  their  lady  friends  threatened  to  play 
havoc  with  the  roll-calls.  This  abuse  did  not  last 
long,  and  nowadays  the  visit  of  a  member  of  either 
house  to  the  gallery  is  an  incident. 

So  far  from  objecting  to  spectators,  both  House  and 
Senate  now  offer  distinct  encouragement  to  the  public 
to  come  and  hear  the  debates.  To  this  end,  each 
chamber  has  a  deep  gallery  completely  surrounding 
it,  with  cross  partitions  at  intervals.  One  section 
is  reserved  for  the  President  and  Cabinet  and  their 
families ;  another  for  the  members  of  the  diplomatic 
circle ;  a  third  for  the  members  of  the  press,  and  so 
forth.     Control    of    each    press    gallery    is    nominally 

[94] 


These   our   Lawmakers 

retained  by  the  chamber  concerned,  but  actually  is 
left  in  the  hands  of  a  committee  of  newspaper  men, 
who  enforce  an  exemplary  discipline,  so  that  a  writer 
guilty  of  misconduct  would  be  excluded  thencefor- 
ward from  his  privileges.  On  the  other  hand,  the  news- 
paper men  have  always  stood  firmly  for  their  right  to 
discuss  the  members  and  measures  of  Congress  with 
all  the  freedom  consonant  with  truth.  It  has  required 
a  long  and  sometimes  dramatic  struggle  to  bring  about 
the  present  harmonious  mutual  understanding  between 
Congress  and  the  press  as  to  the  legitimate  preserves 
of  each  body  upon  which  the  other  must  not  trespass. 
Some  of  the  battles  leading  to  this  result  are  enter- 
taining to  recall.  In  the  later  forties,  while  members 
of  the  press  were  still  permitted  to  do  their  work  at 
desks  on  the  floor  of  the  House,  a  correspondent  of 
the  New  York  Tribune  named  Robinson  published  an 
article  about  a  certain  Representative  named  Sawyer, 
whose  unappetizing  personal  habits  he  thought  it  would 
be  wise  to  break  up.  Among  other  things  he  described 
the  way  Sawyer  ate  his  luncheon  :  "Every  day  at  two 
o'clock  he  feeds.  About  that  hour  he  is  seen  leaving 
his  seat  and  taking  a  position  in  the  window  back  of 
the  Speaker's  chair  to  the  left.  He  unfolds  a  greasy 
paper,  in  which  is  contained  a  chunk  of  bread  and  sau- 
sage, or  some  other  unctuous  substance.     He  disposes 

[95] 


Walks   About    Washington 

of  them  rapidly,  wipes  his  hands  with  the  greasy  paper 
for  a  napkin,  and  throws  it  out  of  the  window.  What 
Httle  grease  is  left  on  his  hands,  he  wipes  on  his  almost 
bald  head."  There  was  more  to  the  same  effect,  but 
this  will  suffice.  When  the  paper  containing  the  arti- 
cle reached  Washington,  there  was  much  laughing  be- 
hind hands  in  Congress ;  but,  though  most  of  the 
members  rejoiced  that  somebody  should  have  told 
the  truth  for  the  dignity  of  the  House,  few  had  the 
courage  to  come  out  boldly  and  say  that  the  satire 
was  deserved. 

One  of  Sawyer's  colleagues  retaliated  with  a  resolu- 
tion that  all  writers  for  the  Tribune  be  excluded  thence- 
forward from  the  floor;  after  a  brief  debate  it  was 
adopted,  and  the  offending  correspondent  was  obliged 
to  go  up  into  the  gallery  and  sit  among  the  women. 
But  his  pursuers  were  not  satisfied  with  this  measure 
of  revenge ;  for,  reviving  a  half-forgotten  rule  that 
men  were  to  be  admitted  to  the  gallery  only  when 
accompanied  by  women,  and  then  must  be  passed  in 
by  a  member  of  the  House,  they  sent  a  doorkeeper 
to  eject  him  even  from  his  temporary  refuge.  At  once 
several  ladies  volunteered  to  accompany  him  for  his 
visits,  and  among  the  Congressmen  who  climbed  the 
stairs  from  day  to  day  to  pass  him  in  was  one  not 
less    distinguished    than    John    Quincy    Adams.     Nor 

[96] 


Where  Dolly  Madison  Gave  Her  Farewell  Ball 


These   our    Lawmakers 

was  this  the  end.  For  the  correspondent  went  home, 
ran  for  Congress  and  was  elected,  while  the  wrathful 
Representative  dropped  into  obscurity  under  the 
nickname,  which  he  was  never  able  to  shake  off,  of 
"Sausage  Sawyer." 

Many  newspaper  publications  have  been  made 
subjects  of  special  investigation  by  committees  of 
Congress,  but  in  no  instance  has  a  threat  of  expulsion 
from  the  gallery  or  of  prosecution  in  the  courts  produced 
any  practical  results ;  and  the  locking  up  of  recusant 
committee  witnesses  has  become  a  mere  mockery. 
The  most  notable  case  on  record  was  that  of  Hallet 
Kilbourn,  a  former  journalist  who  had  become  a  real 
estate  broker  and  a  leading  participant  in  a  local  land 
syndicate  which  the  House  undertook  to  investigate. 
Kilbourn  was  commanded  to  produce  certain  account- 
books,  as  well  as  the  names  and  addresses  of  sundry 
persons  who,  not  being  members  of  Congress,  he  in- 
sisted were  outside  the  jurisdiction  of  that  body.  For 
his  refusal  to  furnish  the  information  demanded  he 
was  thrown  into  jail  and  kept  there  nearly  six  weeks. 
From  the  first,  he  had  declared  that  he  had  no  objec- 
tion to  opening  his  accounts  to  the  whole  world  or  to 
publishing  the  data  desired,  as  all  the  transactions 
covered  by  the  inquiry  had  been  honorable ;  and  this 
assertion    he    proved    later    by    voluntarily    printing 

[97] 


Walks   About    Washington 

everything.  But  he  was  resolved  to  make  a  legal  test 
of  the  right  of  Congress  to  arrogate  to  itself  the  arbi- 
trary powers  of  a  court  of  justice,  and  he  got  a  good 
deal  of  enjoyment  out  of  the  experience. 

For  the  whole  period  of  his  imprisonment  he  lived 
like  a  prince  at  the  expense  of  the  contingent  fund  of 
the  House ;  drove  about  the  city  at  will  in  a  carriage, 
merely  accompanied  by  a  deputy  sergeant-at-arms ; 
and  entertained  his  friends  at  dinner  within  the  jail 
walls.  Of  course,  the  newspapers  exploited  the  whole 
episode  gladly,  and  when  he  had  held  his  prosecutors 
up  to  popular  ridicule  long  enough,  he  sued  out  a  writ 
of  habeas  corpus  and  was  released.  Then  he  brought 
a  suit  for  damages  against  the  Sergeant-at-Arms  for 
false  imprisonment  and  won  it  on  appeal  after  appeal, 
till  the  Supreme  Court  of  the  United  States  handed 
down  a  sweeping  decision  that  "there  is  not  found  in 
the  Constitution  any  general  power  vested  in  either 
house  to  punish  for  contempt."  In  spite  of  the  efforts 
of  all  the  judges  in  the  lower  courts  to  cut  down  the 
damages  granted  by  their  juries.  Congress  was  finally 
obliged  to  pay  Kilbourn  twenty  thousand  dollars,  or 
about  five  hundred  dollars  a  day  for  his  forty  days' 
incarceration.  It  took  him  nine  years  to  carry  his  case 
through  all  its  stages. 

Both     chambers    open    their    daily    sessions     with 

[98] 


These   our    Lawmakers 

prayer.  Clergymen  of  nearly  all  denominations  have 
served  as  Chaplains,  including  Father  Pise,  a  very 
eloquent  Catholic  priest  who  was  a  close  friend  of 
Henry  Clay  and  was  invited  at  his  instance  to  lead  the 
devotions  of  the  Senate.  As  a  rule,  the  prayers  are 
extemporaneous,  and  it  seems  almost  inevitable  that, 
in  periods  of  political  upheaval,  some  color  of  parti- 
sanship should  creep  into  them.  Yet  such  slips  have 
been  very  rare  indeed.  The  most  startling  was  made 
by  the  late  Doctor  Byron  Sunderland,  who  was  Chap- 
lain of  the  Senate  in  1862.  He  was  the  foremost  Pres- 
byterian minister  in  Washington  and  a  strong  anti- 
slavery  advocate.  One  day  Senator  Saulsbury  of 
Delaware,  who  was  an  accomplished  biblical  scholar, 
made  a  speech  reviewing  the  references  in  the  Hebrew 
scriptures  to  human  servitude,  as  proof  that  slavery 
was  of  divine  origin.  Doctor  Sunderland,  having  left 
the  hall,  did  not  hear  the  speech  made,  but  was  told 
about  it  when  he  arrived  at  the  Capitol  the  next 
morning.  He  was  nettled  by  the  news,  and,  before 
he  was  fairly  conscious  of  it,  he  caught  himself  saying 
something  like  this  in  his  opening  prayer:  "Oh,  Lord 
God  of  Nations,  teach  this  Senate  and  all  the  people 
of  this  country  that,  if  slavery  is  of  divine  institution, 
so  is  hell  itself,  and  by  Thy  grace  help  us  to  abolish 
the   one   and   escape   the   other!"     These   few   words 

[99] 


W^alks   About    Washi?igton 

caused  a  great  sensation,  and  later  in  the  day  Mr. 
Saulsbury  vented  his  indignation  in  a  resolution  to 
expel  the  offending  clergyman  from  the  chaplaincy ;  but 
some  quick-witted  Senator  on  the  opposite  side  cut  off 
debate  by  moving  to  adjourn,  and  the  matter  died  there. 
Every  day's  proceedings  of  Congress  are  published 
in  a  special  journal  called  the  Record;  but  it  must  not 
be  too  lightly  assumed  that  every  speech  reported 
has  been  made  in  Congress.  One  of  the  rules  of  the 
House  of  Representatives  permits  a  member,  with 
the  consent  of  the  House,  to  be  credited  with  having 
made  remarks  which,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  he  has  only 
reduced  to  writing  and  handed  to  the  Clerk.  That  is 
what  is  meant  by  the  "leave  to  print"  privilege.  Into 
the  authorship  of  these  speeches,  or  even  of  some  that 
are  delivered,  it  is  not  wise  to  probe  too  far.  There 
are  trained  writers  in  Washington  who  earn  a  livelihood 
by  digging  out  statistics  and  other  data  and  composing 
addresses  on  various  subjects  for  orators  who  are  will- 
ing to  pay  for  them,  and  Congressmen  are  among  their 
customers.  Once  in  a  while  something  happens  which 
casts  a  temporary  shadow  over  this  traffic.  Several 
years  ago,  for  example,  two  Representatives  from 
Ohio  were  credited  in  the  Record  with  the  same  speech. 
Inquiry  developed  the  fact  that  it  had  been  offered  to 
one  of  them,  who  had  refused  either  to  pay  the  price 

[  100  ] 


These   our   Lawmakers 

demanded  for  it  or  to  give  It  back ;  so  the  alithbi'  had 
sold  a  duplicate  copy  to  the  other.  But  worse  yet 'Was ' 
the  plight  of  two  members  who  delivered  almost  identical 
eulogies  on  a  dead  fellow  member,  having  by  accident 
copied  their  material  from  the  same  ancient  volume  of 
"Rules  and  Models  for  Public  Speaking." 

I  have  alluded  to  disorders  which  occasionally  mar 
the  course  of  legislation,  when  members  hurl  ugly 
names  at  each  other  or  even  exchange  blows.  While 
some  such  affrays  have  carried  their  high  tension 
to  the  end  and  sent  the  combatants  to  the  dueling 
field  to  settle  accounts,  others  have  taken  a  comical 
turn  which  decidedly  relaxed  the  strain.  Perhaps  the 
most  picturesque  incident  of  this  kind  was  the  historic 
Keitt-Grow  contest  in  February,  1858.  The  House 
had  been  engaged  all  night  in  a  wrangle  over  an  acute 
phase  of  the  slavery  question,  and  two  o'clock  in  the 
morning  found  both  the  Northern  and  the  Southern 
members  with  their  nerves  on  edge.  Mr.  Keitt  of 
South  Carolina,  objecting  to  something  said  by  Mr. 
Grow  of  Pennsylvania,  struck  at  him,  but  Grow  par- 
ried the  blow,  and  a  fellow  member  who  sprang  to  his 
assistance  knocked  Keitt  down.  From  all  sides  came 
reenforcements,  and  in  a  few  minutes  what  started 
as  a  personal  encounter  of  minor  importance  developed 
into  a  general  free  fight. 

[lOl] 


W^alks  About    Washington 

Potter  of  W'isconsin,  a  man  of  athletic  build,  whirled 
his  fists  , right  ,and  left,  doing  tremendous  execution. 
Owen  Lovejoy,  seeing  Lamar  of  Mississippi  striding 
toward  a  confused  group,  ran  at  him  with  arms  extended, 
resolved  on  pushing  him  back,  while  Lamar  as  vigorously 
resisted  the  obstruction.  Covode  of  Pennsylvania, 
fearing  lest  his  friend  Grow  might  be  overpowered 
by  hostile  numbers,  picked  up  a  big  stoneware 
spittoon  and  hurried  forward,  holding  his  impro- 
vised projectile  poised  to  hurl  at  the  head  where 
it  would  do  most  good ;  but  having  no  immediate 
need  to  use  it,  he  set  it  on  top  of  a  convenient  desk. 
Everybody  was  too  excited  to  pay  any  attention  to 
the  loud  pounding  of  the  Speaker's  gavel,  or  to  the 
advance  of  the  Sergeant-at-Arms  with  his  mace  held 
aloft.  Even  the  unemotional  John  Sherman  and  his 
gray-haired  Quaker  colleague  Mott  could  not  keep 
out  of  the  fray  entirely. 

But  Elihu  Washburne  of  Illinois  and  his  brother 
Cadwallader  of  Wisconsin  proved  by  all  odds  the 
heroes  of  the  occasion.  They  were  of  modest  stature, 
but  sturdy  and  full  of  energy.  Elihu  tackled  Craig  of 
North  Carolina,  who  was  tall  and  had  long  arms, 
which  he  swung  about  him  with  a  flail-like  motion ; 
and  it  would  have  gone  hard  with  the  smaller  man 
had  he  not  suddenly  lowered  his  head  and  used  it  as 

[  I02  ] 


These   our    Lawmakers 

a  battering-ram,  aiming  at  the  unprotected  waist-line 
of  his  antagonist  and  doubHng  him  up  with  one  irre- 
sistible rush.  Just  then  Cadwallader,  seeing  Barks- 
dale  of  Mississippi  about  to  strike  Elihu,  ran  toward 
him ;  but  being  unable  to  penetrate  the  crowd,  he 
leaped  forward  and  reached  over  the  heads  of  the 
intervening  men  to  seize  the  Mississippian  by  the 
hair.  Here  came  the  culmination ;  for  Barksdale's 
ambrosial  locks,  which  were  only  a  lifelike  wig  worn 
to  cover  a  pate  as  smooth  as  a  soap-bubble,  came  off 
in  his  assailant's  hand.  The  astonishment  of  the  one 
man  and  the  consternation  of  the  other  were  too  much 
for  the  fighters,  who,  in  spite  of  themselves,  united  in 
wild  peals  of  merriment ;  and  their  hilarity  was  in  no 
wise  dampened  when  Barksdale,  snatching  at  his  wig, 
restored  it  to  his  head  hind  side  before,  or  when  Covode, 
returning  to  his  seat  and  missing  his  spittoon,  marched 
solemnly  down  the  aisle  and  recovered  it  from  its 
temporary   perch. 

This  scene  occurred  in  the  old  Hall  of  Representa- 
tives. The  most  dramatic  scene  ever  witnessed  in 
the  present  hall  was  one  which  attended  the  opening 
of  the  Fifty-first  Congress,  when  the  Republicans, 
who  had  only  an  infinitesimal  majority,  had  organized 
the  House  with  Thomas  B.  Reed  as  Speaker.  Reed, 
who  was  a  large,  blond  man  with  a  Shakespearian  head 

[  103  ] 


Walks   About    Washington 

and  a  high-pitched  drawl,  signaHzed  his  entrance  upon 
his  new  duties  by  announcing  his  purpose  to  preside 
over  a  lawmaking  rather  than  a  do-nothing  body. 
For  several  successive  Congresses  the  House  had  found 
itself  crippled  in  its  attempts  to  transact  business  by 
the  dilatory  tactics  of  whichever  party  happened  to 
be  in  the  minority.  Day  after  day,  even  in  a  con- 
gested season,  would  be  wasted  in  roll-calls  necessi- 
tated by  some  one's  raising  the  point  of  "no  quorum," 
although  everybody  knew  that  a  quorum  was  present, 
and  that  its  apparent  absence  was  deliberately  caused 
by  the  refusal  of  members  of  the  opposition  to  answer 
to  their  names.  Reed  had  bent  his  mind  to  breaking 
up  this  practice. 

Early  in  his  Speakership  a  motion  to  take  up  a  con- 
tested election  case  was  put  to  vote,  and  a  roll-call 
demanded  as  usual  by  the  minority.  As  the  House 
was  then  constituted,  one  hundred  and  sixty-six  mem- 
bers were  necessary  to  a  quorum,  and  four  Republi- 
cans were  unavoidably  absent.  Following  the  old 
tactics,  nearly  all  the  Democrats  abstained  from  vot- 
ing ;  but,  as  the  call  proceeded.  Reed  was  observed 
making  notes  on  a  sheet  of  paper  which  lay  on  his 
table.  At  the  close,  he  rose  and  announced  the  vote : 
yeas  162,  nays  3,  not  voting  163.  Mr.  Crisp  of 
Georgia  at  once  raised  the  point  of  no  quorum.     Reed 

[  104  1 


These   our   Lawmakers 

ignored  it,  and,  lifting  his  memorandum,  began,  in 
measured  tones  and  with  no  trace  of  excitement  or 
weakness : 

"The  Chair  directs  the  Clerk  to  record  the  follow- 
ing names  of  members  present  and  refusing  to  vote  — " 

And  then  Bedlam  broke  loose.  The  Republicans 
applauded,  and  howls  and  yells  arose  from  the  Demo- 
cratic side.  Above  the  din  could  be  heard  the  voice 
of  Crisp:  "I  appeal  from  the  decision  of  the  Chair  I" 
But  the  Speaker,  not  having  finished  his  statement, 
kept  right  on,  oblivious  of  the  turmoil : 

"Mr.  Blanchard,  Mr.  Bland,  Mr.  Blount,  Mr. 
Breckinridge  of  Arkansas,  Mr.  Breckinridge  of  Ken- 
tucky — " 

The  Democrats  generally  had  seemed  stunned  by 
the  boldness  of  this  move ;  but  the  Kentucky  Breck- 
inridge, at  the  mention  of  his  name,  rushed  down 
the  aisle,  brandishing  his  fist  and  shaking  his  head  so 
that  its  straight  white  hair  stood  out  from  it.  His 
face  was  aflame  with  anger,  and  his  voice  quite  beyond 
his  control,  as  he  shrieked :  "  I  deny  the  power  of  the 
Speaker  —  this  is  revolutionary!"  The  other  Demo- 
crats, inspired  by  his  example  and  recovering  from 
their  stupefaction,  poured  into  the  center  aisle.  They 
bore  down  in  a  mass  upon  the  Speaker's  dais,  gesticu- 
lating wildly  and  all  shouting  at  once,  so  that  nothing 

[105] 


Walks  About    Washington 

could  be  understood  from  the  babel  of  voices  save  their 
desire  to  express  their  scorn  for  the  Speaker  and  their 
defiance  of  his  authority.  The  Republicans  sat  quiet, 
making  no  demonstration,  but  obviously  prepared  to 
rush  in  if  the  trouble  took  on  a  more  violent  form. 
The  Speaker  stood  apparently  unruffled,  not  even 
changing  color,  and  only  those  who  were  near  enough 
to  see  every  line  in  his  face  were  aware  of  that  slight 
twitching  of  the  muscles  of  his  mouth  which  always 
indicated  that  his  outward  composure  was  not  due  to 
insensibility. 

So  furious  was  the  clamor  that  he  was  compelled 
to  desist  from  his  reading  for  a  moment,  while  he 
pounded  with  his  gavel  to  command  order  on  the 
floor.  Then,  as  the  remonstrants  fell  back  a  little, 
his  nasal  tone  was  heard  again,  still  reciting  that 
momentous  list : 

"Mr.  Brookshire,  Mr.  Bullock,  Mr.  Bynum,  Mr. 
Carlisle  —  " 

And  so  on  down  the  roll,  one  member  after  another 
jumping  up  when  he  heard  his  name  called,  but  sub- 
siding as  the  Speaker  went  imperturbably  ahead, 
much  as  might  a  schoolmaster  with  a  roomful  of  re- 
fractory pupils.  Presently  came  the  opportunity  he 
had  been  waiting  for.  Mr.  McCreary  of  Kentucky, 
a    very    dignified,    decorous-mannered    gentleman    on 

[io6] 


These  our   L.awmake?^s 

ordinary  occasions,  had  shown  by  his  change  of  counte- 
nance and  color  that  he  was  repressing  his  emotions 
with  difficulty ;  and,  resolved  not  to  be  ridden  over 
ruthlessly  as  the  rest  had  been,  he  had  risen  in  his  place 
and  stood  there,  holding  before  him  an  open  book  and 
waiting  to  hear  his  name.  The  instant  it  was  read  out, 
he  raised  his  disengaged  hand  and  shouted:  "Mr. 
Speaker !" 

.  To  every  one's  astonishment,  the  Speaker  paused, 
turning  a  look  of  inquiry  toward  the  interrupter,  while 
the  House  held  its  breath. 

"I  deny,"  cried  Mr.  McCreary,  in  a  voice  which, 
in  spite  of  his  endeavor  to  be  calm,  was  trembling  with 
agitation,  "your  right  to  count  me  as  present;  and  I 
desire  to  cite  some  parliamentary  law  in  support  of  my 
point!" 

Reed,  wearing  an  air  of  entire  seriousness,  answered 
with  his  familiar  drawl : 

"The  Chair  is  making  a  statement  of  fact  that  the 
gentleman  is  present."  Then,  with  a  significant  em- 
phasis on  each  word  :  "  Does  —  the  —  gentleman  — 
deny  —  it.?" 

The  silence  which  had  settled  momentarily  upon 
the  chamber  continued  for  a  few  seconds  more,  to  be 
succeeded  by  an  outburst  of  laughter  which  fairly 
shook  the  ceiling.     The  Republican  side  furnished  most 

[  107] 


rW"  -  1  rt  iMMiaiid 


^ 

P^ 


n 


^)^l 


■.^^ 


These   our   Lawmakers 

that,  on  the  theory  that  its  habitual  wearer  was  con- 
structively present;  or  when  "Buck"  Kilgore,  a  giant 
Democrat  from  Texas,  refused  to  stay  in  the  hall  after 
the  Speaker  had  ordered  the  doors  fastened,  and  kicked 
one  of  them  open  with  his  Number  14  boot.  Some- 
times a  tragic  threat  would  be  uttered  by  a  group  of 
hot-headed  enemies,  and  the  galleries  would  be  thronged 
for  several  days  with  spectators  expecting  to  see  Reed 
dragged  out  of  the  chair  by  force  and  arms.  But, 
though  every  day  witnessed  its  parliamentary  struggle, 
the  bad  blood  aroused  was  never  actually  spilled. 
What  did  happen  was  that,  at  the  close  of  the  Con- 
gress, when  it  is  customary  for  the  opposition  party 
to  move  a  vote  of  thanks  to  the  Speaker,  Reed  went 
without  the  compliment.  Something  far  more  flatter- 
ing than  thanks  was  in  store  for  him,  however;  for  in 
the  Fifty-third  Congress,  the  House,  which  was  then 
under  Democratic  control,  by  a  vote  of  nearly  five  to 
one  adopted  his  quorum-counting  rule  with  only  a 
technical  modification.  Since  that  day  it  has  never 
found  itself  in  a  condition  of  legislative  paralysis. 

The  communications  in  which  the  President,  as 
required  by  the  Constitution,  gives  to  Congress  from 
time  to  time  "information  of  the  state  of  the  Union," 
take  the  form  of  general  and  special  messages.  A 
general  message  is  sent  at  the  beginning  of  every  ses- 

[  109] 


Walks   About    Washington 

sion  and  usually  reviews  the  relations  of  our  Govern- 
ment with  its  citizens  and  with  the  outside  world. 
A  special  message  is  called  forth  by  some  particular 
event  or  series  of  events  requiring  a  union  of  counsels 
between  the  legislative  and  executive  branches  of  the 
Government. 

The  formalities  attending  the  presentation  of  gen- 
eral messages  have  differed  at  various  stages  of  our 
national  history.  John  Adams,  for  example,  brought 
his  in  person  to  the  Capitol.  A  military  and  civic 
procession  escorted  him  from  his  house  to  the  Senate 
chamber,  where  the  Senators  and  Representatives 
were  assembled  in  joint  session.  He  was  attired  with 
more  elegance  than  was  his  wont  and  was  accompanied 
by  the  members  of  his  Cabinet,  the  United  States 
Marshal  acting  as  usher ;  the  Vice-president  sur- 
rendered to  him  the  chair  of  honor  and  took  a  seat 
at  his  right  while  he  read  his  address  aloud.  In  those 
days,  each  house  appointed  a  committee  to  consider 
the  address  of  the  President  and  to  draft  a  reply  to 
it;  when  the  reply  was  ready,  a  committee  waited 
upon  him  to  inquire  at  what  time  it  would  be 
agreeable  for  him  to  receive  it,  and  on  the  day  ap- 
pointed, the  members  called  upon  him  in  a  body  to 
present  It. 

The    message    ceremonial    was    considerably    short- 

[no] 


These   our   L>awmakers 

ened  during  the  administration  of  President  Jeffer- 
son, who  scandalized  some  of  the  sticklers  for  propriety 
by  reading  his  first  address  to  Congress  clad  in  a  plain 
blue  coat  with  gilt  buttons,  blue  breeches,  woolen 
stockings,  and  heavy  shoes  tied  with  leather  strings. 
This  democratic  departure  was  typical  of  the  way  a 
good  many  old  customs  died  out.  We  find  most  of 
the  later  Presidents,  till  the  spring  of  1913,  rather 
studiously  avoiding  the  Capitol,  meeting  Congress 
seldom  outside  of  the  White  House,  and  confining  their 
official  communications  to  written  messages  presented 
in  duplicate  at  the  doors  of  the  two  halls  respectively 
by  the  hand  of  an  executive  clerk.  The  response  of 
each  house,  if  any  is  deemed  worth  while,  now  takes 
the  form  of  the  introduction  of  legislation  on  lines 
suggested  by  the  President.  But  the  common  prac- 
tice is  to  cut  a  message  into  parts,  referring  the  pas- 
sages which  deal  with  one  class  of  subjects  to  one 
committee,  and  those  which  deal  with  another  class 
to  another  committee ;  and  in  most  cases,  unless  an 
emergency  arises  to  make  further  consideration  essen- 
tial, little  more  is  heard  of  them. 

President  Wilson  has  revived  the  custom  of  visiting 
Congress  in  its  own  home  and  there  delivering  his 
addresses  directly  to  the  lawmakers  in  a  body,  assem- 
bled for  the  occasion  in  the  Hall  of  Representatives. 

[Ill] 


Walks   About    Washington 

This  is  a  much  more  effective  mode  of  approaching 
Congress  than  sending  a  written  document  by  mes- 
senger, to  be  drawled  through  in  a  singsong  voice  by 
tired  clerks,  simultaneously  in  both  halls,  to  a  gather- 
ing of  only  half-interested  auditors.  It  is  also  a  more 
certain  means  of  concentrating  public  attention  upon 
the  work  of  the  session.  There  is  a  subtle  something 
in  the  very  personality  of  a  President  which  appeals 
to  the  popular  imagination.  As  the  one  high  officer  of 
state  elected  by  the  votes  of  all  the  people,  he  stands 
in  their  minds  as  a  conservator  and  champion  of  their 
broadest  ideals,  as  contrasted  with  the  narrower  sec- 
tional interests  represented  by  the  members  of  Con- 
gress. When,  therefore,  he  takes  his  position  face  to 
face  with  the  men  who  are  to  frame  whatever  legisla- 
tion grows  out  of  his  recommendations,  the  whole 
country  instinctively  draws  near  and  listens. 

It  is  hard  to  guess  what  might  happen  should  it 
fall  to  the  lot  of  President  Wilson  to  appear  before 
Congress  in  person  with  such  a  trumpet-call  as  was 
sounded  in  President  Harrison's  message  on  the  mal- 
treatment of  our  sailors  in  Chile,  or  President  Cleve- 
land's on  the  encroachments  of  England  in  Venezuela, 
or  President  McKinley's  on  the  failure  of  his  peaceful 
efforts  for  freeing  Cuba.  If  the  mere  reading  of  these 
formal  messages  was  so  impressive  as  to  paint  a  vivid 

[112] 


These   our    Lawmakers 

picture  of  the  attendant  scenes  on  the  memory  of  all 
who  witnessed  them,  what  an  extra  touch  of  the  dra- 
matic would  have  been  added  had  the  chief  executive 
of  the  nation  appeared  at  the  Capitol  to  tell  his  story 
himself  1 


[113] 


CHAPTER  V 
"THE  OTHER  END  OF  THE  AVENUE" 

ALTHOUGH  Pennsylvania  Avenue  is  several 
miles  long,  the  mile  that  lies  between  the  hill 
on  which  Congress  sits  and  the  slope  where  the  Presi- 
dent lives  is  called  in  local  parlance  "the  Avenue." 
Outside  of  their  formal  speeches  and  documentary 
literature,  members  of  Congress  are  wont  to  refer  to 
the  White  House  and  its  surroundings  as  "the  other 
end  of  the  Avenue."  This  familiar  phrase  is,  like  the 
popular  designation  of  Congress  as  "the  gentlemen  on 
the  hill,"  a  survival  from  the  period  when  only  one 
hill  in  town  was  officially  occupied,  and  the  strip  of 
highway  connecting  it  with  the  group  of  buildings  used 
by  the  executive  branch  of  the  Government  was  about 
the  only  thoroughfare  making  any  serious  pretensions 
to  street  improvement.  It  was  along  this  line  that 
President  Jefferson  planted  the  first  shade  trees  ;  and 
L'Enfant's  plan  made  the  south  side  of  it  the  northern 
boundary  of  the  Mall. 

The  title  which  for  almost  a  hundred  years  the  Ameri- 

[114] 


"  The    Other   End  of  the   Ave7iue^'' 

can  people  have  given  to  the  headquarters  of  their 
chief  public  servant  is  a  fine  example  of  historic  acci- 
dent. The  White  House  was  not  originally  intended 
to  be  a  white  house.  It  was  built  of  a  buff  sandstone 
which  proved  to  be  so  affected  by  exposure  to  the 
weather  that  as  an  afterthought  it  was  covered  with 
a  thick  coat  of  white  paint.  From  its  nearness  to  sev- 
eral red  brick  buildings,  many  persons  fell  into  the 
way  of  distinguishing  it  by  its  color,  and  after  its  re- 
painting to  conceal  the  stains  of  the  fire  of  1814  this 
practice  became  general.  Presidents  have  referred  to  it 
in  their  messages  variously  as  the  President's  House, 
the  Executive  Mansion,  and  the  White  House.  Among 
the  people  it  was  also  sometimes  known,  in  the  early 
days,  as  the  Palace.  The  Roosevelt  administration 
made  the  White  House  both  the  official  and  the  social 
designation,  and  fastened  the  label  so  tight  that  there 
is  little  reason  to  expect  a  change  by  any  successor. 
The  White  House  was  born  under  the  eye  of  Martha 
Washington,  was  nursed  into  healthy  babyhood  by 
Abigail  Adams,  received  its  baptism  of  fire  under 
Dolly  Madison,  was  popularly  christened  under  Eliza 
Kortright  Monroe,  and  passed  through  numberless 
vicissitudes  under  a  line  of  foster-mothers  stretching 
from  that  time  to  the  end  of  the  century,  every  one 
carrying  it  a  little  further  away  from  its  original  plan ; 

[1151 


W^alks   About    W^ashington 

then  Edith  Kermit  Roosevelt  administered  a  resto- 
rative elixir  which  started  it  upon  a  second  youth.  The 
evolution  of  the  Capitol,  described  in  an  earlier  chap- 
ter, finds  a  parallel  in  the  architectural  genesis  of  this 
building.  Its  drawings  were  made  and  its  construction 
superintended  by  James  Hoban,  an  Irishman ;  but  a 
distinguished  critic  has  described  it  as  "designed  on 
classic  lines,  modified  by  an  English  hand,  at  a  time 
when  French  art  furnished  the  world's  models  in  in- 
terior detail."  That  accounts,  of  course,  for  its  monu- 
mental and  palatial  features. 

But  we  must  bear  in  mind  that  its  sponsors  intended 
it  not  only  as  an  official  residence  for  the  executive  head 
of  the  Government,  but  as  a  home  for  the  foremost 
American  citizen  and  his  family,  and  that,  in  the  es- 
thetics of  domestic  architecture,  local  influences  were 
most  potent.  All  the  Presidents  except  one,  for  the 
first  thirty-six  years  of  the  republic's  existence,  were 
Virginia  gentlemen ;  so,  although  broadly  following 
in  treatment  the  Viceregal  Lodge  in  Dublin,  the 
President's  House  took  on  much  of  the  character  of 
the  "great  house"  on  a  Virginia  plantation.  This 
will  explain  why,  in  their  work  of  restoration,  when 
the  architects  were  confronted  by  some  gap  in  their 
plans  which  could  not  be  filled  by  reference  to  the 
early  records  of  the  house  itself,  they  drew  upon  the 

[ii6] 


"  The    Other   End  of  the   Ave?iue  " 

material  common  to  the  Virginia  mansions  of  the  same 
period. 

By  no  means  the  least  notable  of  their  revivals  was 
the  recognition  of  the  proper  front  of  the  building. 
For  a  half-century,  and  perhaps  longer,  its  back  door 
had  been  used  as  its  main  entrance,  and  most  visitors 
had  borne  away  the  impression  that  that  was  the  face 
its  designer  had  intended  it  to  present  to  the  world. 
Nearly  all  the  authoritative  pictures  helped  to  confirm 
this  notion,  by  displaying  the  north  side  as  confidently 
as  the  photographers  in  Venice  take  San  Marco  from 
the  Piazza.  The  confusion  of  front  and  rear  came 
about  with  other  changes  wrought  by  the  increase  of 
facilities  for  land  transportation.  The  rural  and  sub- 
urban architecture  of  a  century  ago  took  great  note 
of  watercourses ;  for  in  those  days  wheeled  vehicles 
were  rarer  than  now  and  vastly  less  comfortable,  the 
saddle  was  unsociable,  and  most  travel  was  by  river  and 
canal.  Hence  the  finest  houses  were  built,  when  prac- 
ticable, where  they  would  not  only  command  a  pleas- 
ing view,  but  present  their  most  picturesque  aspect 
to  the  passing  boats.  Doubtless  the  site  of  the  White 
House  was  chosen  with  reference  to  the  bend  which 
the  Potomac  made  opposite  the  center  of  the  building, 
thus  opening  a  view  down  to  Alexandria  and  beyond. 
The  river  was  broader  then,  and  probably  washed  the 

[117] 


Walks   About    Washington 

outer  edge  of  what  was  intended  to  be  preserved  for- 
ever as  the  President's  Park. 

With  the  growing  preference  for  land  approaches, 
a  good  many  Southern  houses  of  the  colonial  type  al- 
tered their  habits,  the  White  House  among  them ; 
the  side  which  faced  the  street  offered  the  easier 
entrance,  and  thus  the  back  door  gradually  usurped 
the  dignities  of  the  front,  and  accordingly  the  grounds 
on  that  side  were  laid  out  with  lawns,  trees,  and  shrub- 
bery. Its  outlook,  also,  is  upon  Lafayette  Park,  which, 
if  sundry  plans  are  carried  through,  will  one  day  be 
faced  on  three  sides  with  stately  buildings,  housing 
those  executive  Departments  with  which  the  President 
has  to  keep  in  closest  touch. 

Though  President  Washington  was  never  to  occupy 
the  White  House,  or  even  to  see  it  after  it  was  nearly 
enough  finished  for  occupancy,  he  took  the  greatest 
interest  in  watching  it  go  up,  and,  only  a  few  weeks  be- 
fore his  death,  went  all  over  it  with  Mrs.  Washington, 
thoroughly  inspecting  every  part  then  accessible.  He 
had  borne  a  share  in  the  Masonic  ceremony  of  laying 
its  corner-stone,  and  by  his  personal  influence  had 
induced  the  State  of  Virginia  to  advance  a  large  sum 
of  money  at  one  particularly  critical  stage  of  the 
building  operations ;  so  the  old  mansion  may  boast 
of  having  some  honored  association  with  every  Presi- 

[ii8] 


"  The    Othe?^   End  of  the   Avenue  " 

dent    from    the   foundation   of    our   Government    till 
now. 

When  John  and  Abigail  Adams  moved  in,  the  scan- 
tiness of  fuel  and  lights,  and  the  necessity  for  devoting 
the  east  room  to  the  humblest  of  domestic  uses  and 
converting  an  upstairs  chamber  into  a  salon,  were  not 
the  only  shortcomings  in  their  environment.  Surface 
drainage  water  from  a  considerable  bit  of  high  ground 
to  the  eastward  had  formed  a  turbid  little  creek  which 
almost  surrounded  the  mansion.  There  was  no  water 
fit  to  drink  and  of  sufficient  quantity  to  meet  the  dail}^ 
needs  of  the  President's  family,  short  of  a  spring  in 
an  open  tract  which  we  now  know  as  Franklin  Square, 
about  half  a  mile  away,  whence  it  was  brought 
down  in  crude  pipes.  Beds  of  growing  vegetables 
filled  parts  of  the  garden  area  where  to-day  we  find 
well-kept  lawns  and  ornamental  shrubbery.  The  only 
way  of  reaching  the  south  door  from  Pennsylvania 
Avenue  was  by  a  narrow  footpath,  on  which  the 
pedestrian  took  a  variety  of  chances  after  dark.  The 
streets  surrounding  the  President's  grounds  were  so 
deep  in  slush  or  mud  for  a  large  part  of  the  year  that, 
in  order  to  keep  their  clothing  fairly  presentable, 
visitors  were  obliged  to  come  in  closed  coaches ;  and 
when  the  Adamses  gave  their  first  New  Year's  recep- 
tion, their  guests,  though  so  few  that  the  oval  room  in 

[119] 


Walks   About    Washington 

the  second  story  accommodated  them,  could  not  obtain 
in  Washington  enough  suitable  vehicles,  and  had  to 
draw  upon  the  livery  stables  in  Baltimore. 

Adams  was  a  well-bred  and  well-read  man,  reared 
in  the  best  traditions  of  New  England,  including  the 
sanctity  of  a  pledge ;  and,  having  promised  his  friend 
and  predecessor,  Washington,  to  do  what  he  could 
toward  building  up  a  capital  in  fact  as  well  as  in  name, 
he  pocketed  his  petty  discomforts  and  made  the  best 
of  things.  Among  his  other  efforts  to  promote  the 
popularity  of  the  new  city  must  be  counted  several 
dinners  of  exceptional  excellence,  at  which  Mrs.  Adams 
presided  with  distinguished  graciousness  in  a  costume 
that,  though  it  would  strike  us  now  as  rather  prim, 
was  in  keeping  with  her  age  and  antecedents.  The 
President,  who  was  a  rotund,  florid  man  of  middle 
height,  appeared  at  these  entertainments  in  a  richly 
embroidered  coat,  silk  stockings,  shoes  with  huge  silver 
buckles,  and  a  powdered  wig.  These  were  concessions 
to  the  general  demand  for  elegance  of  attire  on  the 
part  of  the  chief  magistrate,  following  the  precedent 
established  by  Washington.  They  did  not  at  all 
reflect  Mr.  Adams's  preferences,  for  he  was  one  of  the 
plainest  of  men  in  his  tastes,  and  his  ordinary  course 
of  domestic  life  in  the  President's  House  was  to  the 
last  degree  unpretentious ;    his  luncheon,  for  example, 

[  120] 


Old  Carlyle  Mansion,  Alexandria 


>       "  The    Other   End  of  the  Avenue  " 

consisted  usually  of  oatcake  and  lemonade,  and  one  of 
his  amusements  was  to  play  horse  with  a  little  grand- 
child, who  used  to  drive  him  up  and  down  the  somber 
corridors  with  a  switch. 

Albeit  Adams  and  Jefferson  became,  late  in  life, 
the  warmest  of  friends,  no  love  was  lost  between  them 
during  the  period  when  both  were  active  in  politics. 
Adams,  who  would  have  been  gratified  to  receive,  like 
Washington,  a  second  term,  was  not  disposed  to  ''enact 
the  captive  chief  in  the  procession  of  the  victor,"  so 
he  did  not  stay  to  see  Jefferson  inaugurated,  but  at 
daylight  of  the  fourth  of  March,  1801,  left  Washing- 
ton for  Boston.  There  was  no  need  for  such  haste  to 
escape,  for  Jefferson,  as  the  high  priest  of  democratic 
simplicity,  had  no  procession ;  though  the  cheerful 
little  fiction  about  his  riding  down  Pennsylvania  Avenue 
alone,  and  hitching  his  horse  to  a  sapling  in  front  of 
the  Capitol  while  he  went  in  to  be  sworn,  received  its 
death-blow  long  ago.  The  truth  is,  he  had  no  use 
for  a  horse.  He  was  boarding  in  New  Jersey  Avenue, 
where  he  had  lived  for  the  latter  part  of  his  term  as 
Vice-president.  A  few  minutes  before  noon  on  inau- 
guration day  he  set  out  on  foot,  in  company  with  sev- 
eral Congressmen  who  were  his  fellow  boarders,  and 
walked  the  block  or  so  to  the  Capitol,  where  he  was 
escorted  by  a  committee  to  the  Senate  chamber  and 

[121] 


Walks   About    Washington 

there  took  the  oath  of  office  and  deHvered  his  address. 
Then  he  walked  back  again  to  his  boarding-house,  and 
at  dinner  occupied  his  customary  seat  at  the  foot  of 
the  table.  A  visitor  from  Baltimore  complimented 
him  on  his  address  and  "wished  him  joy"  as  President. 
"I  should  advise  you,"  was  his  smiling  response,  "to 
follow  my  example  on  nuptial  occasions,  when  I  always 
tell  the  bridegroom  that  I  will  wait  till  the  end  of  the 
year  before  offering  my  congratulations." 

The  accommodations  in  the  President's  House  were 
somewhat  better  by  the  time  Mr.  Jefferson  moved  in 
than  they  were  when  the  Adams  family  opened  it,  yet 
he  seems  to  have  been  more  or  less  cramped  during 
most  of  his  two  terms  —  owing,  doubtless,  to  the  con- 
tinued presence  of  mechanics  and  building  materials 
in  the  incomplete  parts  of  the  house.  When  the  Brit- 
ish Minister  called  in  court  costume  to  present  his 
credentials,  he  was  received,  with  his  convoy  the  Sec- 
retary of  State,  in  a  space  so  narrow  that  he  had  to 
back  out  of  one  end  of  it  to  make  room  for  the  Presi- 
dent to  enter  at  the  other.  One  of  the  legation  de- 
scribed Jefferson  as  "a  tall  man,  with  a  very  red, 
freckled  face  and  gray,  neglected  hair;  his  manners 
were  good  natured  and  rather  friendly,  though  he  had 
somewhat  of  a  cynical  expression  of  countenance.  He 
wore  a  blue  coat,  a  thick,  gray-colored  hairy  waistcoat 

[  122  ] 


"  The    Other   End  of  the  Avenue  " 

with  a  red  under-waistcoat  lapped  over  it,  green 
velveteen  breeches  with  pearl  buttons,  yarn  stockings 
with  slippers  down  at  the  heels,  his  appearance  being 
very  much  like  that  of  a  tall,  raw-boned  farmer."  On 
the  other  hand,  an  admiring  contemporary  insists  that 
his  dress  was  "plain,  unstudied  and  sometimes  old- 
fashioned  in  its  form,"  but  "always  of  the  finest 
materials,"  and  that  "in  his  personal  habits  he  was 
fastidious  and  neat."     So  there  you  are  1 

A  social  being  Jelferson  certainly  was.  He  liked 
company,  and  his  former  residence  in  France  had  cul- 
tivated his  taste  for  the  good  things  of  the  table,  in- 
cluding light  wines  and  olives.  He  once  said  that  he 
considered  olives  the  most  precious  gift  of  heaven  to 
man,  and  he  had  them  on  his  table  whenever  he  could 
get  them.  He  was  also  fond  of  figs  and  mulberries, 
and  his  household  records  bristle  with  purchases  of 
crabs,  pineapples,  oysters,  venison,  partridges,  and 
oranges  —  a  pretty  fair  list  for  a  man  devoted  to  plain 
living.  One  of  his  hobbies  as  a  host  at  very  small 
and  confidential  dinners  was  to  insure  to  his  guests  the 
utmost  privacy,  so  he  devised  a  scheme  for  dispensing 
as  far  as  practicable  with  the  presence  of  servants  and 
avoiding  the  needless  opening  and  closing  of  doors. 
Beside  every  chair  was  placed  a  small  "dumb-waiter" 
containing  all  the  desirable  accessories,  like  fresh  plates 

[  123  ] 


Walks   About    Washington 

and  knives  and  forks  and  finger-bowls ;  while  in  a  par- 
tition wall  was  hung  a  bank  of  circular  shelves,  so 
pivoted  as  to  reverse  itself  at  the  pressure  of  a  spring, 
the  fresh  viands  entering  the  dining-room  as  the 
emptied  platters  swung  around  into  the  pantry.  The 
company  at  table  rarely  exceeded  four  when  this 
machinery  was  called  into  play.  At  big  state  dinners 
the  usual  array  of  servants  did  the  waiting. 

The  first  great  reception  in  Jefferson's  administra- 
tion occurred  on  the  fourth  of  July  next  following  his 
inauguration.  For  some  reason,  possibly  because  the 
novelty  of  his  sweeping  invitation  prevented  its  being 
generally  understood  by  the  populace,  only  about  one 
hundred  persons  presented  themselves.  A  luncheon 
was  served,  in  the  midst  of  which  the  Marine  Band 
entered,  playing  the  "President's  March,"  or,  as  we 
call  it,  "Hail  Columbia."  The  company  fell  in  behind 
and  joined  in  a  grand  promenade,  with  many  evolu- 
tions, through  the  rooms  and  corridors  of  the  ground 
floor,  returning  at  last  to  the  place  whence  they  had 
started  and  resuming  their  feast  of  good  things. 

As  he  was  a  widower  when  he  succeeded  Adams  at 
the  head  of  the  Government,  and  it  was  not  feasible, 
most  of  the  time,  for  either  of  his  daughters  to  preside 
over  his  public  hospitalities,  Jefferson  naturally  turned 
for  aid  to  Mrs.  James  Madison,  wife  of  his  Secretary  of 

[  124] 


"  The    Other   End  of  the  Avenue '' 

State.  He  despised  empty  precedent ;  and  when,  at  a 
diplomatic  dinner,  he  led  the  way  to  the  dining-room 
with  Mrs.  Madison  instead  of  offering  his  arm  to  Mrs. 
Merry,  wife  of  the  British  Minister  and  dean  of  the  corps, 
he  defied  all  the  old-world  canons.  Mrs.  Merry  withdrew 
in  high  dudgeon,  and  her  husband  made  the  incident  the 
subject  of  a  communication  to  the  Foreign  Office  in 
London. 

Dolly  Madison's  fondness  for  society  counterbalanced 
the  indifference  of  her  husband  —  a  little,  apple-faced 
man  with  a  large  brain  and  pleasant  manners  but  no 
presence,  of  whom  every  one  spoke  by  his  nickname, 
"Jemmy."  She  is  described  as  a  "fine,  portly,  buxom 
dame"  with  plenty  of  brisk  small-talk.  She  knew 
little  of  books,  but  made  a  point  of  having  one  in  her 
hand  when  she  received  guests  who  were  given  to  lit- 
erature ;  and  she  would  have  peeped  enough  into  it 
to  enable  her  to  open  conversation  with  a  reference  to 
something  she  had  found  there.  One  of  the  celebrities 
she  entertained  was  Humboldt,  the  scientist,  concern- 
ing whom  she  wrote:  "We  have  lately  had  a  great 
treat  in  the  company  of  a  charming  Prussian  baron. 
All  the  ladies  say  they  are  in  love  with  him.  He  is 
the  most  polite,  modest,  well-informed,  and  interest- 
ing traveler  we  have  ever  met,  and  is  much  pleased  with 
America."     Another   was   Tom    Moore,   who,    though 

[1251 


Walks  About    Washington 

embalming  in  verse  some  of  the  spiteful  spirit  he  had 
absorbed  from  the  Merrys,  in  later  years  recanted  these 
utterances. 

As  she  was  praised  everywhere  for  the  beauty  of  her 
complexion,  it  is  disconcerting  to  learn  from  a  candid 
biographer  that  Mrs.  Madison  was  wont  to  heighten 
her  color  by  external  applications,  and  now  and  then, 
through  an  accident  of  the  toilet,  gave  to  her  nose  a 
rosy  flush  that  was  meant  for  her  cheeks.  We  are  told 
also  that  she  was  addicted  to  the  fashionable  snuff 
habit  and  kept  always  at  hand  a  dainty  little  box 
made  of  platinum  and  lava,  filled  with  her  favorite 
brand  of  "Scotch,"  which  she  would  freely  use  at 
social  gatherings  and  then  pass  around  the  circle  of 
diplomatists  who  assiduously  danced  attendance  upon 
her.  This  indulgence  accounted  for  her  carrying 
everywhere  two  handkerchiefs :  one  a  bandanna 
tucked  away  in  her  sleeve,  whence  she  could  draw 
it  promptly  for  what  she  called  "rough  work,"  and 
the  other  a  spider-web  creation  of  lawn  and  lace, 
which  she  styled  her  "polisher"  and  wore  pinned  to 
her  side. 

Besides  the  British  Minister  with  his  standing  griev- 
ance, which  he  advertised  by  never  bringing  Mrs. 
Merry  to  the  President's  House  after  the  fateful  din- 
ner, we  read  of  two  other  foreign  envoys  who  used  to 

[126] 


"  The    Other   End  of  the   Avenue  " 

appear  there  spouseless.  One  was  SIdi  Mellanelli, 
who,  Dr.  Samuel  Mitchill  tells  us,  "came  from  Tunis 
to  settle  some  differences  between  that  regency  and  our 
Government.  He  is  to  all  appearance  upward  of  fifty 
years  old ;  wears  his  beard  and  shaves  his  head  after 
the  manner  of  his  country,  and  wears  a  turban  instead 
of  a  hat.  His  dress  consists  simply  of  a  short  jacket, 
large,  loose  drawers,  stockings,  and  slippers.  When 
he  goes  abroad  he  throws  a  large  hooded  cloak  over 
these  garments ;  it  is  of  a  peculiar  cut  and  is  called  a 
bernous.  The  colors  of  his  drawers  and  bernous  are 
commonly  red.  He  seldom  walks,  but  almost  always 
appears  on  horseback.  He  is  a  rigid  Mohammedan ; 
he  fasts,  prays,  and  observes  the  precepts  of  the  Koran. 
He  talks  much  with  the  ladies,  says  he  often  thinks 
about  his  consort  in  Africa,  and  wonders  how  Congress- 
men can  live  a  whole  session  without  their  wives." 

The  other  unaccompanied  diplomat  was  the  French 
Minister,  General  Turreau,  a  man  of  humble  birth 
who  had  risen  to  some  eminence  during  the  recent 
revolution  in  his  country.  Having  once  been  im- 
prisoned, he  improved  the  opportunity  to  make  love 
to  his  jailer's  daughter  and  marry  her;  but  he  appears 
to  have  tired  of  his  bargain,  and  it  was  no  secret  that 
they  led  a  most  inharmonious  life.  According  to  Sir 
Augustus  Foster,  he  was  in  the  habit  of  horsewhipping 

[  127] 


Walks  About    Washington 

her  to  the  accompaniment  of  a  violoncello  played  by 
his  secretary  to  drown  her  cries,  and  the  scandalized 
neighbors  had  finally  to  interfere.  Doctor  Mitchill's 
version  of  the  affair  is  that  the  Minister  tried  to  send 
his  wife  back  to  France,  and  that,  when  she  refused 
to  leave  and  raised  an  outcry,  a  mob  gathered  at  their 
house  and  enabled  her  to  escape  and  go  to  live  in  peace- 
ful poverty  in  Georgetown.  The  Doctor  has  little  to 
say  of  Turreau's  ability,  but  dwells  impressively  on 
"the  uncommon  size  and  extent  of  his  whiskers,  which 
cover  the  greater  part  of  his  cheeks,"  and  on  the  pro- 
fusion of  lace  with  which  his  full-dress  coat  was  deco- 
rated. 

Jerome  Bonaparte,  a  younger  brother  of  the  first 
Napoleon,  passed  a  good  deal  of  time  in  Washington 
during  the  Jefferson  administration  and  was  one  of  the 
lions  at  the  parties  in  the  President's  House.  Meet- 
ing Miss  Elizabeth  Patterson  of  Baltimore,  he  suc- 
cumbed to  her  attractions  and  lost  no  time  in  suing 
for  her  hand.  Her  father  was  a  bank  president  and 
one  of  the  richest  men  in  the  United  States,  and  the 
family,  whose  social  position  was  unexceptionable, 
were  far  from  having  their  heads  turned  by  the  pro- 
posed match,  possibly  feeling  some  misgivings  as  to 
future  complications ;  but  the  young  people  would 
listen  to  no  argument  and  were  married.     Mr.  Jeffer- 

[128] 


"  The    Other   End  of  the   Avenue  " 

son  wrote  at  once  to  the  American  Minister  at  Paris, 
telling  him  to  lay  all  the  facts  before  the  First  Consul 
and  to  make  it  plain  that  in  the  United  States  any 
marriage  was  lawful  which  had  been  voluntarily  entered 
into  by  two  single  parties  of  full  age.  Nevertheless, 
the  great  Napoleon  did  not  hesitate  to  treat  the  mar- 
riage as  void,  and  Jerome  lacked  manliness  to  defy  his 
brother  and  fight  the  matter  out ;  but  Mrs.  Bonaparte, 
having  spunk  enough  for  two,  stood  up  firmly  for  her 
rights  as  a  wife  to  the  end  of  her  days,  and  commanded 
recognition  for  them  everywhere  outside  of  the  imperial 
court. 

A  friend  of  Jefferson's  who  came  to  Washington  dur- 
ing his  administration,  and  whose  advent  created  not 
a  little  stir,  was  a  man  about  seventy  years  of  age, 
described  as  having  "a  red  and  rugged  face  which 
looks  as  if  he  had  been  much  hackneyed  in  the  service 
of  the  world,"  eyes  "black  and  lively,"  a  nose  "some- 
what aquiline  and  pointing  downward"  which  "corre- 
sponds in  color  with  the  fiery  appearance  of  his  cheeks," 
and  a  marked  fondness  for  talk  and  anecdote.  This 
was  none  other  than  Tom  Paine,  patriot,  poet,  polit- 
ical pamphleteer,  and  infidel.  He  was  favorably 
remembered  all  over  the  United  States  for  his  writings 
in  behalf  of  human  rights,  and  for  the  leaflets  and  songs 
which  had  cheered  the  hearts  of  the  Continental  sol- 

[  129] 


Walks  About    Washington 

diers  at  the  most  discouraging  pass  in  our  War  for 
Independence.  After  the  Revolution,  he  had  gone 
abroad  as  an  apostle  of  popular  liberty,  and,  though 
outlawed  in  England,  had  been  permitted  to  cross  to 
France  to  take  his  seat  as  a  deputy  in  the  proletariat 
National  Assembly.  There,  among  other  acts  which 
won  him  commendation,  he  raised  his  voice  and  cast 
his  vote  against  the  resolution  which  sent  Louis  XVI 
to  the  guillotine. 

Appreciating  his  services  to  this  country  and  also 
strongly  sympathizing  with  the  French  type  of  democ- 
racy, Jefferson  had  invited  Paine  to  come  back  to 
his  native  land  in  a  United  States  war-ship ;  and  the 
Federalist  newspapers  seized  their  chance  to  make 
partisan  capital  by  parading  Paine's  religious  heter- 
odoxy and  charging  Jeiferson  with  having  brought 
him  home  to  undermine  the  morals  of  our  people. 
Jeiferson  had  considerable  difficulty  in  counteracting 
the  effects  of  the  accusation,  for  his  own  opinions  had 
been  for  a  good  while  under  fire,  and  it  was  not  a  day 
of  nice  distinctions.  Probably  in  this  more  tolerant 
age  a  man  like  Paine  would  be  given  due  credit  for  his 
practical  benevolence  even  when  mixed  with  a  hatred 
of  ecclesiasticism,  and  Jefferson  would  find  himself 
not  out  of  place  in  the  Unitarian  fold. 

When  Jefferson  was  not  occupied  with  affairs  of  state 

[  130] 


"  The    Other   End  of  the  Avenue '' 

or  entertaining  visitors,  he  was  fond  of  sitting  in  what 
he  called  his  "cabinet"  — a  room  which  he  had  fitted 
up  to  suit  his  own  fancy.  The  rest  of  the  house  was 
rather  unhomelike.  The  east  room  was  still  unfinished, 
and  through  the  others  were  strewn  articles  of  furni- 
ture which,  though  good  in  their  way,  were  not  espe- 
cially suggestive  of  comfort ;  many  of  them  were  relics 
of  the  Washington  regime,  brought  from  Philadelphia. 
But  in  the  cabinet  stood  a  long  table  with  drawers  on 
each  side,  filled  with  things  dear  to  their  owner's 
heart.  One  contained  books  with  inscriptions  from 
their  authors ;  another,  letters  and  manuscripts ;  a 
third,  a  set  of  carpenter's  tools  for  his  amusement  on 
rainy  days ;  a  fourth,  some  small  gardening  imple- 
ments, and  so  on.  Around  the  walls  were  maps,  charts, 
and  shelves  laden  with  standard  literature.  Flowers 
and  potted  plants  were  everywhere,  and  in  the  midst 
of  a  bower  of  these  hung  the  cage  of  his  pet  mocking- 
bird ;  but  the  door  of  the  cage  was  rarely  shut  when 
the  President  was  in  the  room,  for  he  loved  to  have  the 
bird  fly  about  freely,  perch  on  his  shoulder,  and  take 
its  food  from  his  lips. 

As  may  be  guessed,  the  sponsor  for  this  greenery 
was  fond  of  all  growing  things.  Jefferson  was  often 
seen  walking  about  the  embryo  city,  watching  the  work- 
men   digging   or   building,    but   manifesting   a   special 


JValks   About    Washington 

interest  in  tree-planting  and  ornamental  gardening. 
He  tried  to  induce  Congress  to  vote  enough  money 
to  beautify  the  grounds  around  the  President's  House, 
but  in  vain ;  the  most  he  could  do  was  to  enclose 
the  yard  with  a  common  stone  wall  and  seed  it  down 
to  grass.  Among  the  plans  he  prepared  but  was 
obliged  to  abandon  was  the  adornment  of  these  grounds 
exclusively  with  trees,  shrubs,  and  flowers  indigenous 
to  American  soil.  He  must  be  credited  with  the  first 
attempt  ever  made  in  Washington  to  establish  a  zoo- 
logical park ;  Lewis  and  Clarke,  the  explorers,  brought 
him  from  the  West  a  few  grizzly  bears,  for  which 
he  built  a  pen  in  the  yard.  He  also  made  the  first 
move  to  furnish  Pennsylvania  Avenue  with  shade 
trees.  His  preference  was  for  willow-oaks ;  but  he 
started  four  rows  of  Lombardy  poplars  to  take  advan- 
tage of  their  rapid  growth  till  the  slower  oaks  matured. 
One  of  his  hobbies  was  to  improve  the  market  garden- 
ing of  the  neighborhood  by  distributing  new  varieties 
of  vegetable  seeds  obtained  through  the  American 
consuls  in  foreign  countries,  and  instructing  his  steward 
always  to  buy  the  best  home-grown  table  delicacies  at 
the  highest  retail  prices. 

At  Madison's  inauguration  in  1809,  Jefi"erson  not 
only  did  not  imitate  the  ungraciousness  of  Adams  eight 
years  before,  but  went  to  the  opposite  extreme,  declin- 

[  132] 


Washington  s  Pew  in  Christ  Church,  /Ihxandria 


.v\j^\>ttVvji'.\\\\  .A^^vuV.")  VtiuV.'*  itt  w\'\   j'H*\\;\un\»uH\ 


•'  '     ^.  !—    '!>'  ];\'.  '  .',• 


"  The    Other   K?id  of  the   Avenue  " 

ing  Madison's  invitation  to  drive  to  the  Capitol  in  the 
Presidential  coach  lest  he  might  divide  the  honors 
which  he  felt  belonged  exclusively  to  the  President- 
elect. Madison  had  what  was  then  deemed  a  wonder- 
ful procession  of  military  and  civic  organizations,  and 
turned  the  occasion  into  the  first  "made-in-America" 
gala  day,  wearing  himself  a  complete  suit  of  clothing 
made  by  an  American  tailor,  of  cloth  woven  on  Ameri- 
can looms  from  the  wool  of  American  sheep.  Jeffer- 
son, clad  in  one  like  it,  modestly  waited  till  the  pro- 
cession had  passed  and  then  rode  to  the  Capitol  alone, 
not  even  a  servant  following  to  care  for  his  horse.  On 
entering  the  Hall  of  Representatives,  he  declined 
the  chair  reserved  for  him  near  Madison's  but  joined 
the  ordinary  spectators,  saying:  "To-day  I  return 
to  the  people,  and  my  proper  seat  is  among  them." 
At  the  close  of  the  ceremony,  he  mounted  his  horse 
again  and  rode  up  the  Avenue  unattended,  till  George 
Custis,  also  mounted,  joined  him,  and  they  went  to- 
gether to  the  Madisons'  house. 

Here  a  crowd  of  friends  had  gathered  to  welcome  in 
the  new  administration.  Mr.  Madison's  emotions 
had  been  a  good  deal  stirred  by  what  had  passed 
at  the  Capitol,  but  his  manner  was  affable.  His  wife 
was  all  herself  as  usual.  She  was  attired  in  a  plain 
cambric  dress  with  a  very  long  train,  and  a  bonnet  of 

[  133  ] 


Walks  About    JVashington 

purple  velvet  and  white  satin,  adorned  with  white 
plumes.  Jefferson  seems  to  have  been,  for  such  time 
as  he  stayed,  quite  as  much  the  lion  of  the  occasion  as 
his  successor.  Presently  he  slipped  quietly  away  and 
went  over  to  the  President's  House,  where  the  empty 
halls  echoed  to  his  footsteps  ;  for  he  had  given  all  the 
servants  a  holiday  so  that  they  could  see  the  show. 
But  he  did  not  remain  long  alone ;  the  news  spread 
among  his  old  friends  that  he  had  gone  back  to  bid  his 
home  of  eight  years  farewell,  and  they  followed  him 
after  a  little.  In  the  evening  he  went  to  the  in- 
augural ball  —  the  first  ever  held,  and  the  only 
ball  of  any  sort  he  had  attended  since  his  return  from 
France. 

From  all  accounts  it  was  not  a  highly  enjoyable 
affair.  The  room  was  so  crowded  that  it  was  difficult 
to  elbow  one's  way  across  it ;  nobody  could  see  what 
was  going  on  without  standing  on  a  chair ;  the  air 
became  stifling,  and  when  an  attempt  was  made  to 
freshen  it  by  letting  down  the  upper  sashes  of  the 
windows,  they  would  not  move,  so  nothing  was  left 
but  to  smash  the  glass.  Mrs.  Madison  was  almost 
crushed  to  death ;  Madison  was  so  tired  that  he  con- 
fessed to  a  friend  that  he  wished  he  were  abed ;  and  as 
soon  as  supper  was  over,  the  Presidential  party  with- 
drew.    The  younger  set  stayed  and  danced  till  mid- 

[134] 


"  The    Other   End  of  the   Avenue  " 

night,  when,  at  the  stroke,  the  music  ceased  and  the 
attendants  began  to  put  out  the  lights. 

The  social  success  achieved  by  Dolly  Madison  as 
official  hostess  through  so  large  a  part  of  Jefferson's 
administration  did  not  wane  when,  with  the  rise  of 
her  husband  to  the  head  of  the  Government,  she  came 
into  her  own  by  right  instead  of  by  courtesy.  Her 
first  term  as  mistress  of  the  President's  House  was  a 
continuous  blaze  of  gayety,  in  which  we  catch  fleeting 
glimpses  of  her  in  a  variety  of  toilets,  the  most  truly 
typical  being  a  buff  velvet  gown  with  pearl  ornaments 
and  a  Paris  turban  topped  with  a  bird-of-paradise 
plume.  Then  came  the  second  war  with  Great  Britain 
and  the  wrecking  of  the  city. 

When  the  British  approached  Bladensburg,  and  the 
improvised  home-guard  of  Washington  went  out  to 
engage  them  in  battle,  Mr.  Madison  permitted  his 
military  advisers  to  persuade  him  that,  after  seeing  the 
stiffness  of  the  American  resistance,  the  British  would 
withdraw.  His  wife  caught  the  infection  of  confidence, 
and  together  they  planned  to  celebrate  the  victory  by 
a  dinner  to  the  officers  on  the  evening  after  the  battle. 
The  table  was  spread  by  three  in  the  afternoon,  when 
Mrs.  Madison,  who  had  been  listening  with  composure 
to  the  distant  boom  of  cannon,  was  dismayed  to  see 
a  lot  of  demoralized  American  soldiers  running  in  from 

[135] 


Walks  About    Washington 

the  north  by  twos  and  threes.  Her  sudden  fears 
were  confirmed  when  one  of  her  colored  servants 
galloped  up  to  the  door,  shouting:  "Clear  out!  Clear 
out !  General  Armstrong  has  ordered  a  retreat ! " 
Then  a  few  friends  came  over  to  insist  on  her  seeking 
safety  in  flight.  They  helped  her  to  fill  a  wagon  with 
such  valuables  as  were  not  too  heavy ;  but  she  pro- 
voked their  indignation  by  waiting  till  the  oil  portrait 
of  General  Washington  attributed  to  Stuart,  which 
hangs  in  the  White  House  to-day,  could  be  cut  out  of 
its  frame  and  "placed  in  the  hands  of  two  gentlemen 
from  New  York  for  safe  keeping." 

We  have  already  seen  how  the  Capitol  and  other 
public  buildings  were  burned.  A  particularly  vicious 
scheme  was  worked  out  to  assure  the  destruction  of  the 
President's  House,  because  of  Mr.  Madison's  personal 
share  in  the  dispute  which  led  to  the  war.  Indeed, 
it  was  the  hope  of  the  invaders  to  find  him  and  his  wife 
at  home  and  take  them  captive,  so  as  to  humiliate 
the  American  Government  and  people  and  thus  impress 
a  lesson  for  the  future.  By  way  of  a  reconnoiter, 
Admiral  Cockburn  went  to  the  mansion  and  looked 
through  it,  taking  with  him  as  a  hostage  a  young 
gentleman  of  the  city,  named  Weightman.  In  the 
dining-room  they  found  everything  prepared  for  the 
dinner  of  triumph,  and  Cockburn  ordered  his  compan- 

[136] 


"  The    Other   End  of  the   Aveftue  " 

ion  to  sit  down  with  him  and  "drink  Jemmy's  health." 
Then  he  bade  Weightman  help  himself  to  a  mantel 
ornament  as  a  souvenir  of  the  day.  "I  must  take 
something,  too,"  he  added,  and  with  great  hilarity 
tucked  under  his  arm  an  old  hat  of  the  President's  and 
a  cushion  from  Mrs.  Madison's  chair. 

When  all  was  ready,  a  detachment  of  fifty  sailors 
and  marines  were  marched  in  silence  up  Pennsylvania 
Avenue,  every  man  carrying  a  long  pole  with  a  ball  of 
combustible  material  attached  to  the  top  of  it.  Ar- 
rived at  the  mansion,  the  balls  were  lighted,  and  the 
poles  rested  each  against  a  window.  At  a  command 
from  their  officer,  the  pole-bearers  struck  their  windows 
simultaneously  a  hard  blow,  smashing  the  glass  and 
hurling  the  fire-balls  into  the  rooms  with  a  single 
motion ;  and  the  little  group  of  lookers-on  beheld  an 
outburst  of  flame  from  every  part  of  the  building  at 
once. 

At  the  Octagon  House,  where  they  passed  some 
months  after  their  return  to  Washington,  the  Madi- 
sons  were  surrounded  by  the  same  friends  who  had 
enjoyed  the  hospitalities  of  the  President's  House  be- 
fore the  fire.  It  was  not,  however,  till  they  removed 
to  the  dwelling  at  the  corner  of  Pennsylvania  Avenue 
and  Nineteenth  Street  that  Mrs.  Madison  was  able 
to  entertain  on  the  scale  she  desired.     The  house  was 

[  137] 


Jf^alks  About    Washington 

one  of  the  most  commodious  In  town,  and  for  any  fine 
function  the  whole  of  it  was  thrown  open.  This  was 
done  on  the  occasion  of  the  levee  of  February,  1816, 
which  was  universally  pronounced  the  most  splendid 
witnessed  in  the  United  States  up  to  that  time.  The 
illumination  extended  from  garret  to  cellar,  much  of  it 
coming  from  pine  torches  held  aloft  by  slaves  specially 
drilled  to  maintain  statuesque  attitudes  against  the 
walls  and  at  the  heads  of  staircases.  Mrs.  Madison's 
toilet  of  rose-tinted  satin  was  set  off  with  a  girdle, 
necklace,  and  bracelets  of  gold,  and  a  gold-embroidered 
crown.  It  may  have  been  this  last  adornment  which 
suggested  to  Sir  George  Bagot,  the  new  British 
Minister,  his  comment  that  "Mrs.  Madison  looks  every 
inch  a  queen."  The  compliment  promptly  spread 
over  Washington,  where  for  some  time  thereafter  the 
President's  wife  was  constantly  referred  to  as  "the 
Queen." 

This  levee  was  in  the  nature  of  a  farewell,  for  on  the 
fourth  of  the  next  month  President  Madison  made 
way  for  his  successor,  James  Monroe,  whose  inaugu- 
ration was  the  first  ever  held  in  the  open  air.  The 
innovation  was  due  to  a  quarrel  between  the  two 
chambers  of  Congress,  which  was  then  occupying  its 
temporary  quarters  opposite  the  east  grounds  of  the 
Capitol.     Monroe  had  arranged  to  take  the  oath  in  the 

[138] 


"  The    Other   End  of  the  Avenue  " 

Hall  of  Representatives ;  but  the  Senators  found  fault 
with  the  seats  set  apart  for  them,  the  Representatives 
were  stubborn,  and  a  deadlock  seemed  imminent, 
when  Monroe  suggested  as  a  compromise  that  a  plat- 
form be  raised  in  front  of  the  building,  and  that  the 
ceremony  take  place  there,  where  all  the  people  could 
witness  it.  Thus  began  what  came  to  be  known  as 
"the  era  of  good  feeling." 

How  class  consciousness  prevailed  in  those  days  is 
amusingly  illustrated  by  Monroe's  resentment  of  the 
foreign  conception  of  Americans.  "People  in  Europe," 
he  had  once  said  to  the  French  Minister,  while  Sec- 
retary of  State  under  Madison,  "suppose  us  to  be 
merchants  occupied  exclusively  with  pepper  and  ginger. 
They  are  much  deceived.  The  immense  majority  of 
our  citizens  do  not  belong  to  this  class,  and  are,  as 
much  as  your  Europeans,  controlled  by  principles  of 
honor  and  dignity.  I  never  knew  what  trade  was ; 
the  President  was  as  much  a  stranger  to  it  as  I."  Per- 
haps it  was  because  he  knew  so  little  about  trade  that 
he  took  pains  to  cultivate  its  acquaintance  as  soon  as 
he  became  President.  He  made  a  grand  tour  of  the  new 
West,  staying  away  from  Washington  more  than  four 
months  and  visiting  especially  the  commercial  centers, 
where  he  showed  himself  to  the  people  as  much  as 
possible.     He   invited   some   criticism   by   making  his 

[  139] 


Walks   About    Washington 

tour  in  the  buff-and-blue  uniform  of  the  Continental 
soldiery  of  forty  years  before,  cocked  hat  and  all ;  but 
his  friends  always  contended  that  this  appeal  to 
patriotism  vastly  increased  his  popularity  and  went 
far  to  account  for  his  wonderful  success  in  his  campaign 
for  reelection  in  1820,  when  he  captured  all  the  elec- 
toral votes  except  one. 

The  period  covered  by  the  last  few  pages  brought 
to  Washington  two  great  men,  whose  share  in  shap- 
ing the  history  of  the  United  States  was  such  as  to 
warrant  our  pausing  to  take  a  closer  look  at  them. 
These  were  Henry  Clay  and  Daniel  Webster.  Clay 
was  probably  the  most  popular  man  in  our  public  life 
from  Washington's  time  to  Lincoln's,  and  his  legisla- 
tive career  was  unique  both  in  its  beginning  and  in  its 
ending.  He  came  to  Washington  first  to  fill  a  vacancy 
caused  by  the  death  of  a  Kentucky  Senator,  and  held 
this  position  for  several  months  while  he  was  still  too 
young  to  be  eligible  under  the  Constitution,  because 
nobody  was  disposed  to  inquire  into  the  years  of  one 
who  possessed  so  mature  a  mind.  Both  before  and 
after  this  experience  he  served  in  the  Kentucky  legis- 
lature, where,  on  account  of  an  insult  received  in 
debate,  he  challenged  its  author  and  "winged"  him 
in  a  duel.  When  the  Twelfth  Congress  was  about  to 
meet,   with  every  prospect  that  John  Randolph   and 

[  140] 


"  The    Other   End  of  the   Avenue  *' 

his  little  coterie  were  going  to  make  trouble  in.  the 
House,  a  demand  arose  for  a  Speaker  who  would  be 
able  to  cope  with  the  turbulent  element.  Clay  had 
just  been  elected  a  Representative,  and  his  prowess 
as  a  duelist  drew  all  eyes  in  his  direction.  "Harry 
Clay  can  keep  Randolph  in  order,"  declared  his  Ken- 
tucky neighbors,  "and  he  is  the  only  man  who  can!" 
On  this  ground,  then,  he  was  elected  Speaker  before 
he  had  actually  taken  his  seat  in  the  House.  He  was 
the  first  man  ever  thus  honored ;  and  he  was,  I  be- 
lieve, the  only  one  who  ever  made  two  formal  farewells 
to  the  Senate.  The  first,  preliminary  to  his  resigna- 
tion in  1842,  appears  among  the  classics  of  American 
eloquence;  but,  as  he  was  sent  back  in  1849,  he  had 
the  chance,  rarely  accorded  any  one  except  a  histrionic 
star,  to  bow  himself  off  the  stage  a  second  time. 

During  the  years  of  his  greatest  activity,  every 
announcement  that  he  was  to  speak  made  a  gala  day 
at  the  Capitol.  "The  gallery  was  full,"  wrote  Mar- 
garet Bayard  Smith  of  one  such  occasion,  "to  a 
degree  that  endangered  it ;  even  the  outer  entries 
were  thronged.  The  gentlemen  are  grown  very  gal- 
lant and  attentive,  and,  as  it  was  impossible  to  reach 
the  ladies  through  the  gallery,  a  new  mode  was  invented 
for  supplying  them  with  oranges,  etc.  They  tied  them 
up  in  handkerchiefs,  to  each  of  which  was  fixed  a  note 

[1411 


If^alks  About    Washington 

indicating  for  whom  it  was  designed,  and  then  fast- 
ened to  a  long  pole.  This  was  taken  on  the  floor  of 
the  house  and  handed  up  to  the  ladies  who  sat  in  the 
front  of  the  gallery.  These  presentations  were  fre- 
quent and  quite  amusing,  even  in  the  midst  of  Mr. 
Clay's  speech.  I  and  the  ladies  near  me  divided  what 
was  brought  with  each  other,  and  were  as  social  as  if 
acquainted." 

The  orator  who  could  hold  his  own  against  such  a 
background  of  confusion  might  well  take  pride  in  his 
powers  ;  but  the  universal  testimony  was  that  Clay's 
wonderfully  modulated  voice  and  magnetic  charm  of 
personality  triumphed  over  everything.  He  v/as  so 
attractive  a  man  that  even  Calhoun,  with  whom  he 
was  at  swords-drawn  in  every  forensic  battle,  could 
not  forbear  wringing  his  hand  with  a  "God  bless  you  !" 
at  their  final  parting  in  the  Senate  chamber ;  and 
John  Randolph,  with  whom  he  had  clashed  repeatedly 
and  whose  coat  he  had  punctured  in  a  duel,  insisted 
on  being  carried  to  the  Capitol,  while  dying,  and  laid 
on  a  couch  where  Clay  was  going  to  deliver  a  much- 
heralded  speech.  Possibly  one  of  the  secrets  of  Clay's 
success  in  winning  people  was  illustrated  in  his  quarrel 
with  Senator  King  of  Alabama,  which  began  on  the 
Senate  floor  and  led  to  the  passage  of  a  challenge. 
Friends  interfered,  and  after  some  days  a  peace  was 

[  142] 


Mount  Vernon 


"  The    Other   End  of  the  Avenue  " 

patched  up,  both  men  pubHcly  withdrawing  their 
offensive  remarks,  and  a  brother  Senator  making 
some  appropriate  gratulatory  observations  on  the 
reconcihation.  Then  Clay  gave  the  final  dramatic 
touch  to  the  scene  by  crossing  the  chamber  to  where 
his  late  adversary  sat,  saying  aloud:  "King,  give  me 
a  pinch  of  your  snuff!"  King,  surprised,  sprang  up 
and  held  out  both  a  snuff-box  and  an  open  hand,  while 
Senators  and  spectators  applauded  to  the  echo. 

Clay  was  a  slimly  built  man  who  always  appeared 
for  action  clad  in  a  solemn  suit  of  black,  with  a  claw-ham- 
mer coat,  a  stiff  silk  stock,  and  a  huge  white  "choker" 
Avith  pointed  ears.  His  face  was  spare  and  his  forehead 
high,  his  cheekbones  were  prominent,  the  nose  between 
them  was  slender  and  forceful,  and  the  mouth  wide, 
thin-lipped,  and  straight-cut.  His  lank  hair,  natu- 
rally of  a  tawny  hue,  became  early  streaked  with  gray 
and  was  worn  long  enough  to  fringe  his  coat  collar. 
He  was  approachable  in  manner,  had  a  most  genial 
smile,  and  was  ready  with  a  pleasant  response  to  every 
greeting,  its  effect  being  intensified  by  its  musical 
clarity  of  enunciation.  He  was  distinctly  fond  of 
society  and  especially  enjoyed  a  game  of  cards.  Al- 
though his  wife  accompanied  him  to  Washington,  she 
appeared  little  with  him  in  public.  She  was  a  good 
woman  with  few  gifts,  but  a  devoted  mother,  and  her 

[  143  ] 


Walks   About    Washington 

chief  joy  in  life  was  to  sew  for  her  six  children.  Wher- 
ever he  went,  Mr.  Clay  was  always  surrounded  by  a 
circle  of  adoring  women,  who  hung  upon  every  word 
of  the  many  he  uttered  as  he  talked  in  desultory  style 
with  his  back  against  a  sofa-cushion.  He  followed  a 
free  fashion  of  his  time  in  taking  toll  from  the  lips  of 
all  the  young  and  pretty  maidens  he  met.  The  first 
time  he  saw  Dolly  Madison,  her  youthful  face  and 
dainty  dress  misled  him  into  saluting  her  in  this  fash- 
ion. On  discovering  his  mistake,  "Ah,  madam," 
he  pleaded  gallantly,  "had  I  known  you  for  whom  you 
are,  the  coin  would  have  been  larger!" 

I  may  add  in  passing  that  the  American  navy  owes 
its  monitor  type  of  fighting-craft  largely  to  Henry 
Clay.  Theodore  Timby,  who  invented  the  revolving 
turret  which  Ericsson  used  during  the  Civil  War, 
came  to  Washington  bearing  a  letter  of  introduction 
to  Clay,  who  became  interested  in  the  idea  and  helped 
him  get  the  patent  without  which  it  might  have  been 
lost  to  the  world. 

Webster  was  cast  in  quite  a  different  mold  from 
Clay.  He  was  godlike  where  Clay  was  human ;  his 
eloquence  overwhelmed  his  hearers  where  Clay's  fas- 
cinated them.  He  had  a  big  head,  a  big  frame,  a 
big  voice,  a  big  presence.  Emerson  speaks  of  his 
"awful  charm."     Some  one  who  heard  him  condemn 

[  144] 


"  The    Other   End  of  the   Avenue'''' 

the  dishonest  gains  of  a  certain  financial  institution, 
says  that  the  word  "disgorge,"  as  he  uttered  it, 
"seemed  to  weigh  about  twelve  pounds."  Once  Mrs. 
Webster  brought  their  little  son  to  hear  his  father 
deliver  an  oration.  Daniel  began  a  sentence  in  his 
thunder-tone:  "Will  any  man  dare  say — "  and  the 
audience  were  waiting  breathless  to  hear  what  was 
coming  next,  when  a  wee,  piping  voice  responded  from 
the  gallery:   "Oh,  no,  no,  Papa!" 

His  greatest  effort  in  Congress,  of  course,  was  his 
reply  to  Hayne.  Everybody  in  Washington  was  eager 
to  hear  it,  and  galleries  and  floor,  including  the  platform 
on  which  the  Vice-president  sat,  were  crowded  to  the 
last  limit.  Representative  Lewis  of  Alabama,  being 
unable  to  gain  access  to  the  hall,  climbed  around  be- 
hind the  wooden  framework  which  flanked  the  plat- 
form and  bored  a  hole  through  it  with  his  pocket-knife 
in  order  to  get  a  view  of  the  great  expounder.  At  a 
levee  that  evening  at  the  White  House,  Webster  was 
besieged  by  admirers  offering  congratulations.  Among 
the  crowd  that  drew  near  him  at  one  time  happened 
to  be  Hayne  himself.  "  How  are  you.  Colonel  Hayne  V 
was  Webster's  greeting.  "None  the  better  for  you, 
sir,"  answered  Hayne,  good  humoredly  but  with  sin- 
cere feeling. 

We  are  treated  to  another  picture  of  him  when  he 

[145] 


Walks   About    W^ashington 

arrived  late  at  a  concert  given  by  Jenny  Lind.  For 
the  benefit  of  the  statesmen  who  were  present,  Miss 
Lind,  for  an  encore,  sang  "Hail  Columbia,"  Web- 
ster, who  had  been  dining,  was  on  his  feet  in  an  in- 
stant and  added  his  powerful  bass  voice  to  hers  in  the 
chorus.  Mrs.  Webster  did  all  she  could  to  induce 
him  to  sit  down,  but  he  repeated  his  effort  at  the  close 
of  every  verse,  and  with  the  last  strain  made  the  song- 
stress a  profound  obeisance,  waving  his  hat  at  the 
same  time.  Miss  Lind  curtsyed  in  return,  Webster 
repeated  his  bow,  and  this  little  comedy  of  etiquette 
was  kept  up  for  some  minutes,  to  the  delight  of  the 
audience. 


[146] 


CHAPTER   VI 
THROUGH  MANY  CHANGING  YEARS 

WITH  the  advent  of  the  Monroes,  social  life  at 
the  President's  House  underwent  a  transfor- 
mation. Its  character  could  have  been  forecast  from 
the  fact  that,  although  for  the  six  years  Monroe  had 
been  at  the  head  of  the  Cabinet  his  family  had  been 
with  him  in  Washington,  they  were  as  nearly  strangers 
to  the  great  body  of  citizens  as  if  they  had  been  living 
in  New  York  or  Boston.  If  a  lady  wished  to  call  on 
Mrs.  Monroe,  she  had  to  apply  for  an  appointment 
and  have  a  day  and  hour  fixed,  unless  she  were  a  mem- 
ber or  intimate  of  some  former  Presidential  family. 
In  this  administration,  too,  was  born  to  Washington 
its  first  formal  code  of  social  precedence,  which,  with 
certain  modifications  in  detail,  has  remained  unchanged 
to  this  day.  It  differs  from  the  codes  of  other  Amer- 
ican communities  in  having  official  rank  as  a  basis. 
John  Quincy  Adams,  before  becoming  Secretary  of 
State,  had  served  at  various  times  as  envoy  to  five  Eu- 
ropean courts.     He  was  therefore  ripe  with  information 

[  147] 


Walks  About    Jf^ashington 

on  the  rules  observed  abroad  and  resolved  on  bring- 
ing something  of  the  same  sort  into  operation  at  our 
capital. 

Mrs.  Monroe  and  her  daughters  made  it  an  abso- 
lute rule  to  pay  no  visits ;  so  calls  made  on  them, 
no  matter  by  whom,  went  unreturned.  Their  dislike 
of  the  underbred  caused  them  to  take  no  part  in 
the  preparations  for  the  general  levees,  which  were 
thronged  with  anybody  and  everybody ;  but  their 
invitation  list  for  select  receptions  was  cut  down 
mercilessly,  and  the  reduced  company  were  treated 
to  supper,  an  innovation  on  recent  practices.  At  all 
such  entertainments  Mrs.  Monroe  was  so  exacting  in 
her  demands  as  to  dress  that  when  one  of  her  near  rel- 
atives presented  himself  in  an  informal  costume  which 
he  had  worn  without  criticism  at  the  best  of  the  Jef- 
ferson and  Madison  functions,  she  refused  him  admit- 
tance till  he  should  don  the  regulation  small-clothes 
and  silk  hose. 

The  Monroes  renamed  the  east  room  "the  banquet- 
ing hall"  and  had  their  state  dinners  there,  partly 
because  of  its  spaciousness,  and  partly  because  the 
dining-room  had  been  so  badly  damaged  in  the  fire 
that  it  took  a  long  time  to  rehabilitate.  The  table 
appointments  included  a  central  oval  "plateau"  twelve 
feet   long   by   two   feet   wide,    composed   of   a   mirror 

[148] 


Through    Many    Changing    Years 

"surrounded  by  gold  females  holding  candlesticks." 
The  china  was  highly  gilt,  and  the  dessert  knives,  forks, 
and  spoons  were  of  beaten  gold.  All  the  plate  was  the 
private  property  of  the  family  and  bore  the  initials 
"J.  M." ;  much  of  it  was  afterward  purchased  by  the 
Government  and  made  a  part  of  the  official  furnishing 
of  the  White  House,  where  it  remained  in  use  down  to 
Van  Buren's  day. 

A  New  York  Representative  went  with  some  friends 
to  dine  with  the  Monroes.  Arriving  at  half-past  five, 
his  party  were  "ushered,  Indian  file,  into  the  drawing- 
room,"  where  they  found  "some  twenty  gentlemen 
seated  in  a  row  in  solemn  state,  mute  as  fishes,  having 
already  undergone  the  ceremony  of  introduction." 
And  he  goes  on : 

"Mrs.  Monroe  was  seated  at  the  further  end  of  the 
room,  with  other  ladies.  On  our  approach,  she  rose 
and  received  us  handsomely.  After  being  myself 
presented,  I  introduced  the  other  gentlemen.  I  now 
expected  to  be  led  to  the  President,  but  my  pilot, 
the  private  secretary,  had  vanished.  We  beat  a  re- 
treat, each  to  his  respective  chair.  Observing  the 
President  sitting  very  demurely  by  the  chimney- 
corner,  I  arose  and  advanced  to  him.  He  got  up  and 
shook  me  by  the  hand,  as  he  did  the  other  gentlemen. 
This  second  ceremony  over,  all  again  was  silence,  and 

[  149] 


Walks   About    Washington 

each  once  more  moved  to  his  seat.  It  was  a  period 
of  great  solemnity.  Not  a  whisper  broke  upon  the 
ear  to  interrupt  the  silence  of  the  place,  and  every  one 
looked  as  if  the  next  moment  would  be  his  last.  After 
a  while  the  President,  in  a  grave  manner,  began  con- 
versation with  some  one  that  sat  near  him,  and  directly 
the  secretary  ushered  in  some  more  victims,  who 
submitted  to  the  same  ordeal  we  had  experienced. 
This  continued  for  fully  half  an  hour,  when  dinner 
was  announced.  It  became  more  lively  as  the  dishes 
rattled."  The  party  remained  at  table  till  about 
half-past  eight. 

The  retirement  of  Monroe  marked  the  end  of  "the 
Virginia  dynasty."  It  had  always  been  a  sore  point 
with  John  Adams  that  the  highest  office  of  the  Gov- 
ernment should  be  passed  from  hand  to  hand  in  the 
Old  Dominion,  and  he  once  threw  out  the  splenetic 
comment  that  not  "until  the  last  Virginian  was  laid 
in  the  graveyard"  would  his  son  have  a  chance  at 
the  Presidency.  The  son  had  been  trained  with 
reference  to  such  an  inheritance,  and,  on  becoming 
Monroe's  Secretary  of  State,  regarded  himself  as  in 
the  line  of  succession.  His  appearance  as  a  Presiden- 
tial candidate,  however,  aroused  no  general  enthu- 
siasm, whereas  General  Andrew  Jackson,  having  given 
the  finishing  stroke  to  the  defeat  of  the  British  invaders 

[150] 


Through    Many    Changing    Years 

by  his  victory  over  Pakenham,  and  acquired  the  nick- 
name "Old  Hickory,"  had  become  the  idol  of  the 
multitude.  In  spite  of  their  approaching  competition 
for  the  Presidency,  Adams  was  obliged  to  recognize 
Jackson's  prestige  at  every  turn ;  and  on  the  eighth 
of  January,  1824,  Mrs.  Adams  gave  a  ball  in  the  Gen- 
eral's honor  which  was  so  grand  that  it  was  still  talked 
of  in  Washington  fifty  years  afterward. 

The  Adams  house  stood  on  the  site  now  occupied 
by  the  Adams  office  building  in  F  Street  near  Four- 
teenth. On  this  occasion  the  floor  of  the  ballroom 
was  decorated  with  pictures  in  colored  chalks.  The 
central  design,  which  portrayed  an  American  eagle 
clutching  a  trophy  of  flags,  bore  the  legend:  "Wel- 
come to  the  Hero  of  New  Orleans  ! "  The  pillars  were 
trimmed  with  laurel  and  other  winter  foliage,  roses 
were  scattered  everywhere,  and  the  illumination  was 
furnished  by  variegated  lamps,  with  a  brilliant  luster 
in  the  middle  of  the  ceiling.  There  were  eight  pieces 
of  music.  Mrs.  Adams  was  seated  in  the  center  of 
the  hall,  with  Jackson  standing  at  her  side  and  a  semi- 
circle of  distinguished  guests  behind  them.  President 
Monroe  and  Mr.  Adams  attended,  but  both  were 
conspicuous  for  their  sobriety  of  attire.  It  was  this 
gathering  which  inspired  a  tribute  in  verse  by  a  local 
journalist,  beginning : 

[1511 


Walks   About    Washington 

"  Wend  you  with  the  world  to-night  ? 
Brown  and  fair,  and  wise  and  witty, 
Eyes  that  float  in  seas  of  Hght, 

Laughing  mouths  and  dimples  pretty, 

Belles  and  matrons,  maids  and  madams, 
All  are  gone  to  Mrs.  Adams  !  " 

Nine  months  later,  Jackson  polled  a  far  larger  pop- 
ular vote  for  the  Presidency  than  Adams,  and  so  dis- 
tributed as  to  give  him  a  lead  in  the  electoral  colleges 
also.  But  as  there  were  four  candidates,  none  of  whom 
had  a  clear  majority  of  the  electoral  vote,  the  deci- 
sion was  left  to  the  House  of  Representatives,  where 
Henry  Clay,  the  candidate  at  the  bottom  of  the  list, 
threw  his  support  to  Adams,  giving  him  the  office. 
Adams  recognized  his  debt  to  Clay  by  appointing  him 
Secretary  of  State,  and  thus  placing  him  in  the  line 
of  promotion.  Jackson  never  forgave  Clay  for  his 
share  in  electing  Adams,  and  from  that  day  forth  had 
nothing  to  do  with  him  beyond  the  coolest  exchange 
of  civilities.  In  other  respects  the  General  accepted 
defeat  philosophically,  attending  the  inaugural  cere- 
monies and  promptly  coming  forward  to  congratulate 
the  new  President,  an  act  of  grace  that  brought  tears 
to  the  eyes  of  Adams.  The  appearance  of  the  two 
men  together  in  public  delighted  the  crowd,  and  there 
was  vociferous  hurrahing  for  Jackson.     Judged   solely 

[152] 


Through   Many    Changing   Years 

by  appearances,  indeed,  the  day  was  a  festival  in  honor 
of  Jackson  rather  than  of  Adams.  Many  of  the  Gen- 
eral's friends  had  come  a  long  distance,  in  an  era  when 
traveling  was  so  slow  that  they  had  been  obliged  to 
leave  home  before  learning  the  final  outcome  of  the 
election,  and  supposed  that  they  were  to  attend  the 
inauguration  of  their  favorite.  They  sought  solace 
for  their  disappointment  in  turbulent  demonstrations. 
For  the  whole  afternoon  the  dramshops  carried  on  a 
tremendous  business,  and  all  night  the  streets  were 
full  of  tramping  men  roaring  out  Jackson  campaign 
songs  and  silencing  opposition  with  their  fists.  Pis- 
tol shots  were  heard  at  frequent  intervals,  and  a  rumor 
spread  that  Henry  Clay  had  been  killed. 

Whatever  Adams  may  have  thought  of  these  exhibi- 
tions, he  bore  them  with  a  calm  exterior.  He  was 
always  indifferent  to  criticism,  and  became  famous  as 
the  most  shabbily  clad  man  who  had  ever  occupied 
the  Presidential  chair,  being  accused  even  of  having 
worn  the  same  hat  for  ten  years.  He  braved  public 
opinion  by  setting  up  a  billiard  table  in  the  White 
House,  which  gave  a  North  Carolina  Representative 
a  text  for  a  speech  denouncing  the  expenditure  of 
fifty  dollars  for  the  table  and  six  dollars  for  a  set  of 
balls  as  "alarming  to  the.  religious,  the  moral,  and  the 
reflecting    portion    of    the    community."      The    anti- 

[153] 


Walks   About    Washington 

administration  press,  using  the  game  of  billiards  as 
a  theme,  opened  fire  upon  the  President  as  a  gambler. 
For  a  fact,  he  never  made  but  one  bet  in  his  life.  Clay 
had  picked  up  at  auction  a  picture  which  Adams 
tried  to  buy  of  him.  One  day,  in  jest.  Clay  offered 
it  as  a  stake  for  a  game  of  all-fours.  To  his  aston- 
ishment, Adams,  the  supposed  ascetic,  took  him  up, 
and  won  the  game  and  the  picture. 

It  was  a  habit  of  Adams  to  take  a  plunge  in  the 
Potomac,  at  the  foot  of  his  garden,  every  morning 
"between  daybreak  and  sunrise,"  the  weather  per- 
mitting. Once  he  had  all  his  clothing  stolen,  and  had 
to  catch  a  passing  boy  and  send  him  home  for  enough 
raiment  to  cover  him.  But  this  was  by  no  means 
his  most  embarrassing  adventure.  It  was  during  his 
administration  that  the  first  woman  newspaper  corre- 
spondent turned  up  in  Washington.  She  was  resolved 
to  procure  an  interview  with  the  President,  who  did 
not  care  to  gratify  her.  So  she  rose  early  one  morn- 
ing and  repaired,  notebook  and  pencil  in  hand,  to  the 
river  bank,  and  planted  herself  beside  his  clothes  till 
he  started  to  come  out.  Standing  almost  neck-deep 
in  the  water,  he  tried  first  severity  and  then  persuasion 
to  induce  her  to  go  away,  but  she  held  her  ground 
till  he  surrendered  and  answered  her  most  important 
questions. 

[154] 


Tudor  House,  Georgetown 


KtifMSgAiiitmAttmmtS^Sii^i^^^ 


Through    Many    Changing    Tears 

The  billiard  table  was  not  the  only  basis  for  charges 
of  prodigal  living  brought  against  Adams.  When  he 
ran  for  reelection,  his  enemies  made  effective  use  of 
a  letter  written  by  a  member  of  Congress  who  had 
attended  a  New  Year's  reception  at  the  White  House 
and  who  mentioned  the  "gorgeously  furnished  east 
room."  The  truth  was  that  the  east  room,  except  for 
three  marble-topped  tables  and  a  few  mirrors,  did  not 
contain  fifty  dollars'  worth  of  furniture  of  any  sort. 
A  Washingtonian  of  the  period  has  written  that  there 
were  no  chandeliers,  and  that  the  great  room  depended 
for  its  lighting  on  candles  held  in  tin  candlesticks  nailed 
to  the  wall,  which  "dripped  their  sperm  upon  the 
clothes  of  those  who  came  under  them,  as  I  well  know 
from  experience," 

Adams  sometimes  aroused  personal  hostility  by  his 
peppery  temper.  He  had  to  dine  with  him  one  eve- 
ning a  Southern  Senator  who  was  notorious  for  his  dis- 
like of  everything  in  New  England  but  prided  himself 
on  his  knowledge  of  wines.  The  Senator  had  the  bad 
manners  to  remark  that  he  had  "never  known  a  Uni- 
tarian who  did  not  believe  in  the  sea-serpent."  This 
aroused  the  ire  of  Adams,  who  later,  when  his  guest 
said  that  Tokay  and  Rhine  wine  were  somewhat  alike, 
turned  upon  him  with  the  exclamation:  "Sir,  I  do 
not  believe  that  you  ever  drank  a  drop  of  Tokay  in 

[1551 


W^alks  About    Washington 

your  life!"  He  afterward  apologized,  but  the  Sena- 
tor would  not  accept  the  apology  and  became  the 
implacable  foe  of  his  administration. 

Jackson's  election  in  1828  was  a  foregone  conclu- 
sion from  the  moment  he  reappeared  as  a  Presidential 
candidate ;  and,  immediately  upon  the  announcement 
that  he  had  won  an  electoral  vote  a  good  deal  more 
than  double  that  of  Adams,  Washington  became  the 
Mecca  of  a  hundred  pilgrimages.  By  the  fourth  of 
March,  1829,  the  city  was  so  crowded  with  worship- 
ers of  the  President-elect  that  they  overflowed  the 
inns  and  boarding-houses,  and  many  were  obliged  to 
live  in  camp.  Half  the  men  wore  their  trousers  tucked 
into  their  boot-legs,  and  not  a  few  carried  pistols 
openly  in  their  belts.  The  hickory  emblem  was  in 
evidence  everywhere  :  men  wielded  hickory  canes  and 
staffs,  women  wore  bonnets  trimmed  with  hickory 
leaves  and  necklaces  composed  of  hickory  nuts  fanci- 
fully painted,  and  scores  of  horses  were  driven  with 
bridles  of  hickory  bark. 

Like  his  father,  Adams  did  not  attend  the  inaugura- 
tion of  his  successor ;  he  withdrew  to  a  hired  dwelling 
on  the  heights  north  of  the  city  and  kept  to  himself 
till  the  flurry  was  over.  Probably  Jackson  did  not 
regret  his  absence,  for  the  campaign  had  been  sur- 
charged with  bitter  personalities,  into  which  the  name 

[156] 


Bladensburg  Duelling-Ground 


Through   Many    Changing    Years 

of  Mrs.  Jackson  was  remorselessly  dragged.  Mrs. 
Jackson  had  died  since  election  day,  and  the  General 
believed  her  death  the  direct  result  of  calumny. 

Madison  had  set  the  fashion,  and  Monroe  and  Adams 
had  improved  upon  it,  of  having  a  formal  escort  to  the 
Capitol  on  the  way  to  inauguration.  Jackson,  how- 
ever, refused  to  follow  custom.  As  the  only  militia 
organization  in  the  city  was  under  command  of  a 
colonel  who  hated  him,  he  had  no  military  display,  but 
walked  down  the  middle  of  Pennsylvania  Avenue  with 
only  a  body-guard  composed  of  veterans  of  the  War 
of  the  Revolution,  then  a  half-century  past.  For 
any  lack  of  enthusiasm  on  the  part  of  the  resident 
population,  that  of  the  visiting  Jacksonians  more  than 
compensated.  All  the  way  the  General  and  his  little 
party  were  so  surrounded  by  a  yelling,  cheering  crowd 
that  they  could  advance  only  at  a  snail's  pace.  To 
watchers  on  Capitol  Hill  he  was  distinguishable  from 
the  mob  by  being  the  one  man  in  the  midst  of  it  who 
walked  bareheaded. 

Jackson  was  the  first  President  to  take  the  oath 
of  office  on  the  east  portico  of  the  Capitol,  the  place 
now  generally  used.  He  also  was  the  first  to  read 
his  speech  before  being  sworn.  He  wore  two  pairs  of 
spectacles,  —  a  pair  for  looking  at  the  crowd  and  a 
pair   for   reading ;    when   he  was   using  one   pair,   the 

[157] 


Jf^alks  About    Washington 

other  was  perched  aloft  on  his  forehead.  At  the  close 
of  the  exercises,  he  mounted  a  fine  white  horse  and  rode 
to  the  White  House,  again  having  to  make  his  way 
through  a  mass  of  singing  and  shouting  admirers.  At 
the  mansion  a  feast  had  been  provided,  and  the  gates 
thrown  open  to  every  one.  The  building  was  soon 
stuffed  full ;  and,  as  the  people  waiting  outside  could 
hardly  hope  to  force  their  way  in,  negro  servants  came 
to  the  doors  with  buckets  of  punch  and  salvers  of 
cakes  and  ices  and  passed  these  out.  Much  of  the 
food  and  drink  was  wasted,  and  much  china  and  glass- 
ware smashed.  Women  fainted,  men  quarreled  and 
bruised  one  another's  faces.  At  one  stage  the  door- 
ways became  so  blocked  that  people  coming  out  had 
to  climb  through  the  windows  and  drop  to  the  ground. 
The  rabble  inside,  bent  on  shaking  the  hand  of  the 
President,  jammed  him  against  a  wall  to  the  serious 
peril  of  his  ribs,  till  he  succeeded  in  escaping  through 
a  back  entry  and  taking  refuge  in  the  hotel  where  he 
had  lately  had  his  lodgings. 

The  boisterous  incidents  of  his  first  day  in  office 
were  only  an  earnest  of  the  stormy  administration 
which  lay  before  Jackson.  Realizing  how  much  he  was 
indebted  to  New  York  for  his  election,  and  that  Mar- 
tin Van  Buren  had  a  powerful  following  there,  he  ap- 
pointed   Van    Buren    his    Secretary    of    State.     This 

[158] 


Through    Many    Changing    Years 

proved  a  pretty  lucky  Investment  in  human  nature ; 
for  in  the  Peggy  Eaton  controversy,  which  broke  out 
soon  after  Jackson  began  his  term,  Van  Buren  was  a 
valuable  ally.  General  John  H.  Eaton,  a  lifelong  friend 
whom  Jackson  had  appointed  Secretary  of  War,  had 
been  boarding  for  several  years  with  a  local  tavern- 
keeper  named  O'Neal.  The  publican's  daughter, 
Peggy,  had  grown  up  a  pretty,  but  pert  and  forward 
girl,  who  flirted  with  her  father's  patrons  and  married 
one  of  them.  Purser  Timberlake  of  the  navy.  Timber- 
lake  was  addicted  to  drink,  and  during  one  of  his  cruises 
he  ended  a  spree  by  suicide,  leaving  his  wife  and  chil- 
dren destitute ;  and  Eaton,  whose  name  gossip  had 
already  linked  with  the  widow's,  came  to  the  front 
with  an  offer  of  marriage,  which  was  accepted. 

The  wedding  followed  so  closely  upon  the  tragedy 
as  to  cause  wide  criticism,  and  this,  together  with  her 
antecedents,  condemned  Mrs.  Eaton  to  social  ostra- 
cism. Left  to  themselves,  Eaton's  colleagues  of  the 
Cabinet  would  have  Ignored  the  circumstances  of  his 
marriage,  but  the  ladies  of  their  families  declared  that 
they  would  have  nothing  to  do  with  the  bride.  Van 
Buren,  as  a  widower  with  no  daughters,  felt  free  to 
act  as  he  pleased ;  and  Jackson,  remembering  what 
his  own  wife  had  endured,  gallantly  espoused  the 
cause  of  Mrs.  Eatorr  and  gave  the  hostile  Secretaries 

[159] 


Walks  About    Washington 

their  choice  between  accepting  her  or  resigning  their 
portfolios,  whereupon  the  Cabinet  went  promptly  to 
pieces. 

Being  a  man  of  means,  Van  Buren  did  a  good  deal 
of  entertaining  for  Mrs.  Eaton's  benefit,  and  also  in- 
spired those  members  of  the  diplomatic  corps  who  were 
unaccompanied  by  ladies  to  join  him  in  "floating" 
her.  The  British  Minister  was  a  bachelor,  so  was  the 
Russian  Minister;  but,  though  the  dinners  and  balls 
which  they  gave  attracted  many  feminine  guests  who 
were  flattered  by  being  invited,  they  were  not  wholly 
successful.  Madam  Huygens,  wife  of  the  Dutch 
Minister,  for  instance,  was  induced  to  attend  a  ball, 
but  when  escorted  to  the  supper  table  found  that  she 
was  expected  to  sit  next  but  one  to  Mrs.  Eaton  and 
would  have  to  exchange  a  few  words  with  that  lady. 
Instantly  she  placed  her  arm  in  that  of  her  husband  and 
withdrew  with  him  from  the  room.  When  the  story 
was  told  to  Jackson,  he  rose  in  his  wrath  and  declared 
that  he  would  send  Huygens  home  to  Holland ;  but 
he  never  carried  out  the  threat. 

Viewed  in  historical  perspective,  Jackson  appears 
to  have  been  a  man  of  tremendous  force,  thoroughly 
patriotic,  conscientious  in  even  his  most  wayward 
conceptions  of  duty,  unlearned  but  not  illiterate,  and 
above   all   things   hating  treachery.     He   handled   the 

[  i6o  ] 


Through    Many    Changing   Years 

sword  with  more  facility  than  the  pen,  and  some  of 
his  correspondence,  reproduced  with  its  crudities  of 
syntax  and  spelHng,  would  make  the  better  educated 
angels  weep.  Conscious  of  his  scholastic  shortcomings, 
he  rarely  attempted  anything  original  in  writing  or 
speaking,  except  on  public  questions ;  and  when  his 
autograph  was  sought  in  the  albums  which  were  the 
fashionable  fad  of  the  day,  he  borrowed  his  sentiments 
from  the  Presbyterian  hymn-book,  quoting,  as  Miss 
Martineau  recalls,  "stanzas  of  the  most  ominous 
import  from  Dr.  Watts." 

Jackson  usually  flavored  his  dinners  and  receptions 
with  a  dash  of  the  unexpected.  On  one  occasion  he 
jostled  the  proprieties  by  singing  "Auld  Lang  Syne." 
He  ate  sparingly  at  his  own  table  but  talked  a  great 
deal,  slowly  and  quietly,  and,  when  women  were 
present,  with  much  real  kindliness  of  tone.  He  had 
a  homely  way  of  disposing  of  questions  which  he  re- 
garded as  not  overimportant.  At  a  dinner  in  honor 
of  the  marriage  of  his  adopted  son,  Andrew  Jackson, 
Junior,  he  decided  on  an  innovation  in  etiquette  by 
having  his  Secretary  of  State  precede  the  diplomatic 
corps,  the  rest  of  the  Cabinet  to  follow  the  foreigners. 
This  plan  was  vigorously  resisted  by  the  Secretary  of 
the  Treasury,  who  argued  that  the  Cabinet  was  a 
unit,  and  that  its  members  should  therefore  be  treated 

[i6i] 


Walks   About    Washington 

on  an  equal  footing.  "In  that  case,"  said  the  Presi- 
dent, "we  will  put  all  the  Cabinet  ahead  of  the  diplo- 
mats," and  he  sent  his  private  secretary.  Major  Donel- 
son,  to  make  the  announcement  to  the  guests.  The 
French  Minister  at  once  stirred  up  the  Dutch  Minister, 
as  senior  member  of  the  corps,  to  prevent  the  threat- 
ened indignity.  Meanwhile,  dinner  had  been  an- 
nounced, and  every  one  was  standing.  Donelson 
reported  the  strained  situation  to  the  President,  who, 
instead  of  vowing  "by  the  Eternal"  that  his  com- 
mands should  be  obeyed,  smiled  good-naturedly  and 
said  :  "Well,  I  will  lead  with  the  bride.  It  is  a  family 
affair ;  so  we'll  waive  all  difhculties,  and  the  company 
will  please  to  follow  as  heretofore." 

The  first  baby  born  in  the  White  House  probably 
was  Mary  Emily  Donelson,  child  of  the  private  secre- 
tary. At  her  baptism  in  the  east  room  the  President 
and  Martin  Van  Buren  stood  as  godfathers.  Van 
Buren  took  her  In  his  arms  when  she  was  first  brought 
in,  but  she  squirmed  and  wriggled  so  that  Jackson 
reached  out  for  her,  whereat  she  cooed  with  delight, 
as  children  always  did  at  any  attention  from  him. 
He  held  her  throughout  the  service,  and,  at  the  minis- 
ter's question,  "Do  you,  in  the  name  of  this  child, 
renounce  the  devil  and  all  his  works  V  he  stiffened  up 
as  he  might  have  if  confronted  with  a  fresh  machlna- 

[1621 


Through    Many    Changing    Years 

tion  of  his  enemies,   and  declared  with  characteristic 
emphasis:    "I  do,  sir;    I  renounce  them  all!" 

It  was  during  Jackson's  administration  that  Harriet 
Martineau  first  visited  Washington.  She  w^as  suffer- 
ing from  overwork  and  had  been  orderd  by  her  physi- 
cian in  England  to  cross  the  sea  for  a  good  rest.  In 
spite  of  that,  people  would  not  let  her  alone.  It  is 
said  that  within  twenty-four  hours  after  her  arrival 
in  town  more  than  six  hundred  persons  had  called  to 
pay  their  respects.  Probably  not  fifty  could  have 
told  why  they  did  so,  except  that  she  was  a  literary 
celebrity.  One  lady  was  eager  to  learn  "whether  her 
novels  were  really  very  pretty,"  and  most  of  the 
statesmen,  when  told  that  she  was  a  political  econo- 
mist, laughed  outright.  A  social  leader,  desirous  of 
giving  her  a  dinner  such  as  she  had  been  accustomed 
to  at  home,  made  the  table  groan  under  the  choicest 
things  the  market  afforded,  including  eight  different 
meats,  only  to  see  the  guest  confine  herself  to  a  tiny 
slice  of  turkev-breast  and  a  nibble  of  ham.  She  was 
equally  disconcerting  with  her  other  simplicities,  such 
as  coming  to  a  five  o'clock  dinner  at  a  little  after 
three,  clad  in  a  walking  suit  in  which  she  had  been 
tramping  about  the  city,  but  bringing  in  her  capacious 
pockets  all  the  trappings  necessary  for  a  presentable 
evening  toilet. 

[  163  ] 


Walks  About    Washington 

Notwithstanding  her  idiosyncrasies,  Miss  Martineau 
made  a  profoundly  pleasant  impression  wherever  she 
went.  Webster,  Clay,  and  Calhoun  would  desert  their 
seats  in  the  Senate  to  join  her  for  a  talk,  and  Chief 
Justice  Marshall  would  descend  from  the  bench  to 
greet  her  when  she  came  into  his  courtroom.  She  could 
take  up  her  unpretentious  position  in  the  corner  of  a 
sofa  anywhere,  and  in  a  few  minutes  have  a  circle  of 
the  country's  elect  about  her  awaiting  their  turns  for 
a  chat ;  and  this  in  spite  of  the  fact  that  she  was  very 
deaf  and  had  to  make  use  of  an  ear-trumpet  of  an  un- 
familiar pattern,  so  that  often  a  newcomer  would  talk 
into  the  wrong  aperture.  She  never  made  anything 
of  her  infirmity ;  and,  of  all  the  poems,  addresses, 
and  letters  of  appreciation  with  which  she  was  show- 
ered, the  production  which  gave  her  most  delight 
was  an  ode  to  her  trumpet,  beginning:  "Beloved 
horn!" 

Early  in  this  administration,  the  east  room  at  the 
White  House,  which  had  figured  in  the  Democratic 
campaign  speeches  as  an  audience  chamber  sump- 
tuous enough  for  royalty,  was  discovered  to  be  too 
shabby  for  a  President  of  Jackson's  simple  habits. 
So  four  large  mirrors,  heavily  framed  in  gilt,  were 
hung  against  its  walls,  their  bases  resting  on  mantels 
of  black  Italian  marble.     Chandeliers   gleaming  with 

[1641 


Through    Many    Changing    Years 

glass  prisms  were  suspended  from  the  ceiling ;  damask- 
covered  chairs,  their  woodwork  gilded  like  the  mirror 
frames,  were  substituted  for  the  worn-out  furniture 
which  had  sufficed  for  the  Adams  family ;  the  windows 
were  richly  curtained ;  a  Brussels  carpet,  with  the 
sprawling  pattern  then  so  much  admired,  was  stretched 
over  the  entire  floor ;  and  this  array  of  elegance  was 
capped  with  bouquets  of  artificial  flowers,  in  painted 
china  vases,  distributed  among  the  mantels  and  tables 
and  in  the  window  recesses. 

These  things  did  not  long  retain  their  freshness. 
Jackson's  dinners  had  features  quaint  enough,  but 
his  receptions  were  little  short  of  riots.  A  literary 
visitor  has  left  us  the  description  of  one  where  "gene- 
rals, commodores,  foreign  ministers  and  members  of 
Congress"  brushed  elbows  with  laborers  who  had 
come  in  their  working  clothes  from  a  day  of  canal  dig- 
ging, and  "sooty  artificers"  direct  from  the  forge. 
"There  were  majors  in  broadcloth  and  corduroys, 
redolent  of  gin  and  tobacco,  and  majors'  ladies  In  chintz 
or  russet,  with  huge  Paris  earrings,  and  tawny  necks 
profusely  decorated  with  beads  of  colored  glass.  There 
were  tailors  from  the  board  and  judges  from  the 
bench  ;  lawyers  who  opened  their  mouths  at  one  bar, 
and  tapsters  who  closed  theirs  at  another ;  and  one 
individual  —  either     a     miller    or     a     baker  —  who, 

[  i6s  ] 


Jf^alks   About    Washington 

wherever  he  passed,  left  marks  of  contact  on  the  gar- 
ments of  the  company."  Meanwhile,  the  waiters 
who  attempted  to  cross  from  the  pantry  to  the  east 
room  with  cakes  and  punch  were  intercepted  by  a 
ravenous  horde  who  emptied  the  trays  as  fast  as  they 
could  be  refilled,  so  that  little  or  nothing  reached  the 
better-mannered  guests.  This  went  on  till  the  Irish 
butler,  in  exasperation,  enlisted  a  dozen  stalwart  men 
and  armed  them  with  billets  of  wood,  to  surround  the 
waiters  as  a  guard,  and  keep  their  sticks  swinging  about 
the  food  so  briskly  that  it  could  not  be  captured  ex- 
cept at  the  cost  of  a  broken  head.  Of  course  the 
carpet,  curtains,  and  cushions  were  deluged  with  sticky 
refuse,  and  broken  bits  of  china  and  glass  were  ground 
into  powder  under  foot. 

If  it  be  possible  to  imagine  anything  worse  in  its 
way  than  this  scene,  it  was  Jackson's  farewell  enter- 
tainment, given  on  the  twenty-second  of  February, 
1837.  The  chief  feature  was  the  cutting  of  a  mammoth 
cheese  which  had  been  sent  to  the  President  by  admir- 
ers in  a  northern  dairy  district.  It  weighed  fourteen 
hundred  pounds,  and  nothing  would  satisfy  Jackson 
but  to  give  a  piece  to  every  man,  woman,  and  child 
who  would  come  for  it.  As  a  result,  the  paths  leading 
to  the  White  House,  and  the  portico  itself,  were 
thronged  that  afternoon  with  people  going  in  to  get 

[166] 


Through    Many    Changing    Years 

their  chunks  and  coming  out  with  greasy  parcels  in 
their  hands.  "We  forced  our  way  over  the  threshold," 
wrote  one  of  the  adventurous  souls,  "and  encountered 
an  atmosphere  to  which  the  mephitic  gas  over  Avernus 
must  be  faint  and  innocuous.  On  the  side  of  the  hall 
hung  a  rough  likeness  of  General  Jackson,  emblazoned 
with  eagle  and  stars,  and  in  the  center  of  the  vestibule 
stood  the  fragrant  gift,  surrounded  by  a  dense  crowd 
who  had  in  two  hours  cut  and  purveyed  away  more 
than  a  half-ton  of  horribly  smelling  'Testimonial  to 
the  Hero  of  New  Orleans.'  A  small  segment  had  been 
reserved  for  the  President's  use,  but  it  is  doubtful  if 
he  ever  tasted  it."  The  cutting  was  done  by  two  able- 
bodied  laborers,  armed  with  big  knives  extemporized 
from  hand-saws. 

In  the  White  House,  Jackson  lived  a  good  deal 
apart.  He  was  always  glad  to  see  any  one  who  came 
on  a  friendly  errand,  and  loved  to  frolic  with  children ; 
but  one  of  his  chief  pleasures  was  sitting  by  himself  in 
the  big  south  room  of  the  second  story  and  smoking. 
An  aged  friend  who,  as  a  boy,  visited  the  White  House 
with  his  father  while  Jackson  was  there,  told  me  that 
the  President  bade  them  draw  up  with  him  by  the 
fireside,  offered  a  clean  clay  pipe  to  the  elder  of  the 
visitors,  and,  lighting  his  own  well-seasoned  corn-cob, 
puffed  the  smoke  up  the  chimney,  explaining  that  Emily 

[167] 


Walks   About    Washington 

Donelson  —  the  wife  of  his  secretary,  who  kept  house 
for  him  —  disHked  the  smell  of  tobacco. 

The  ghost  of  the  Peggy  Eaton  affair  could  never 
be  permanently  exorcised.  Timberlake  had  not  only 
died  penniless  and  in  debt  but  left  his  official  accounts 
in  confusion,  and  a  year  or  two  later  it  was  discovered 
that  he  had  been  a  defaulter.  His  bondsman  resisted 
payment  of  the  shortage,  accusing  Lieutenant  Robert 
B.  Randolph,  who  had  taken  over  Timberlake's  papers, 
of  the  actual  responsibility  for  it.  Randolph,  in 
demanding  a  court-martial,  committed  a  technical 
breach  of  discipline  for  which  the  President  dismissed 
him  summarily  from  the  service.  One  day  Jackson 
was  a  passenger  on  a  river  steamboat  which  stopped 
briefly  at  a  wharf  in  Alexandria.  He  was  sitting  alone, 
when  a  stranger  approached  him  as  if  to  shake  hands. 
Jackson,  seeing  him  drawing  off  one  of  his  gloves, 
said  amiably,  "  Never  mind  your  glove,  sir,"  and 
stretched  out  his  own  hand.  But  the  stranger,  in- 
stead of  taking  it,  made  a  violent  lunge  at  Jackson's 
face,  exclaiming:  "I  am  Lieutenant  Randolph,  whom 
you  have  wronged  and  insulted,  and  I  came  here  to 
pull  your  nose!"  Startled  by  the  noise,  two  or  three 
gentlemen  ran  forward  and  sprang  upon  Randolph, 
who,  in  the  struggle  that  followed,  reached  the  gang- 
plank  and   freed   himself.     The   President,    convinced 

[i68] 


Through    Many    Changing    Years 

by  later  developments  that  the  Lieutenant  had  really 
suffered  an  Injustice,  offered  to  reinstate  him  If  he 
would  apologize  for  the  nose-pulling;  but  he  scorn- 
fully rejected  the  proposal. 

The  Cabinet,  as  reorganized  In  consequence  of 
pretty  Peggy's  fight,  did  not  hang  together  long.  Sec- 
retary Eaton  Intimated  presently  that  he  would  like 
to  retire.  Van  Buren  seemed  of  the  same  mind,  so  the 
President  appointed  the  former  Governor  of  Florida 
and  the  latter  Minister  to  England.  The  Senate 
confirmed  Eaton's  appointment  with  good  enough 
grace,  but  balked  at  that  of  Van  Buren,  who,  having 
gone  to  England  In  good  faith  to  enter  upon  his  duties, 
was  put  to  the  humiliating  necessity  of  coming  home 
again.  Jackson  was  angry,  regarding  this  as  a  blow 
at  himself.  "If  they  don't  want  him  for  Minister," 
he  thundered,  "we'll  see  If  they  like  him  any  better 
as  President!"  He  therefore  laid  out  a  program 
beginning  with  his  own  reelection  with  Van  Buren  as 
his  Vice-president,  and  ending  with  Van  Buren's  elec- 
tion as  his  successor.  The  plan  carried ;  and,  as  Jack- 
son's affection  for  Van  Buren  had  grown  largely  out 
of  the  latter's  stanch  loyalty  in  the  Cabinet  quarrel, 
Mrs.  Eaton  may  be  said  to  have  shaped  American  his- 
tory for  a  considerable  term  of  years. 

Long  after  this  lady  ceased  to  hold  the  center  of  the 

[169] 


Walks  About   Washington 

national  stage,  her  career  continued  to  be  picturesque. 
Her  husband,  having  retired  from  the  Governorship 
of  Florida,  was  appointed  Minister  to  Spain,  and  in 
Madrid  she  appears  to  have  made  herself  a  great 
favorite  at  court.  After  General  Eaton's  death  she 
returned  to  Washington,  and  was  living  down  much  of 
the  adverse  sentiment  of  former  days,  when  there  ap- 
peared on  the  scene  an  Italian  dancing-master  named 
Buchignani,  whose  dark,  soulful  eyes  and  insinuating 
manners  proved  too  much  for  even  her  experienced 
heart.  Although  she  was  well  advanced  in  years  and 
he  was  young  enough  to  be  her  son,  she  not  only 
became  his  wife,  but  let  all  her  comfortable  fortune 
slip  into  his  hands,  and  gradually  gave  him  also  the 
custody  of  her  grandchildren's  property,  which  she  was 
holding  in  trust.  He  repaid  her  kindness  by  eloping 
with  her  favorite  granddaughter  to  Canada,  where 
he  went  into  business  as  a  saloon-keeper.  Mrs.  Bu- 
chignani died  in  1879,  still  glorying  in  the  memory 
of  her  early  activities. 

As  Vice-president,  Van  Buren  lived  in  the  Decatur 
house,  the  big  somber  brick  dwelling  on  the  corner  of 
Jackson  Place  and  H  Street.  Across  the  park,  just 
south  of  the  present  home  of  the  Cosmos  Club,  lived 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Ogle  Tayloe,  with  whom  it  was  his  habit 
to  pass  his  disengaged  evenings.     Suddenly  he  ceased 

[  170] 


Decatur  House 


Through   Many   Changing   Years 

coming,  and  after  some  weeks  Mr.  Tayloe  hunted 
him  up  to  inquire  what  was  the  matter.  His  only 
response  was:  "Mrs.  Tayloe  has  things  lying  about 
on  her  table  which  should  not  be  there."  Van  Buren 
had  always  seemed  interested  in  Mrs.  Tayloe's  collec- 
tion of  contemporary  autographs  ;  and,  when  husband 
and  wife  were  searching  there  for  the  possible  cause  of 
offense,  they  came  upon  a  letter  from  a  prominent 
New  York  politician  containing  the  passage  :  "What  is 
little  Matt  doing  1  Some  dirty  work,  of  course,  as 
usual."  Mrs.  Tayloe  cut  out  the  derogatory  paragraph 
and  sent  word  to  Van  Buren  that  she  had  done  so, 
and  at  once  he  renewed  his  visits. 

Jackson  escorted  Van  Buren  to  the  Capitol,  for  his 
inauguration,  in  a  carriage  widely  celebrated  as  the 
"Constitution  coach."  It  was  a  present  to  the  Gen- 
eral from  citizens  of  New  York  and  was  built  out  of 
timbers  from  the  old  war  frigate  Constitution^  a  picture 
of  w^hich  was  emblazoned  on  one  panel.  Van  Buren 
discovered,  before  he  had  been  long  in  office,  that 
a  thousand  things  which  the  people  accepted  without 
question  from  a  military  hero  they  were  prepared  to 
criticize  in  a  civilian.  Moreover,  his  son  John,  while 
in  England  some  years  before,  had  danced  with  the 
Princess  Victoria  and  thus  acquired  the  nickname 
^'Prince  John,"  of  which  the  enemies  of  the  adminis- 

[1711 


Walks   About    Washington 

tration  made  use  as  a  political  cudgel,  declaring  that 
the  whole  family  were  aping  the  foreign  aristocracy. 
Along  came  the  financial  panic  of  1837,  reducing 
thousands  of  well-to-do  persons  to  poverty,  and  this 
was  fatuously  laid  to  Van  Buren's  account  when  he 
stood  for  reelection  in  1840  against  General  William 
Henry  Harrison,  affectionately  styled  "Old  Tippe- 
canoe" in  memory  of  one  of  his  victories. 

Regardless  of  the  fact  that  Jackson  had  refurnished 
the  White  House  expensively  for  those  days  and  then 
given  entertainments  which  spoiled  nearly  everything 
spoilable,  it  was  Van  Buren  who  became  the  unde- 
serving target  for  attack  on  the  ground  that  he  main- 
tained "a  royal  establishment"  in  "a  palace  as  splen- 
did as  that  of  the  Caesars,  and  as  richly  adorned  as  the 
proudest  Asiatic  mansion."  The  stump  orators  harped 
on  the  use  of  gold  and  silver  spoons  at  the  White  House 
table,  and  on  the  excessive  number  of  spittoons  dis- 
tributed in  the  parlors  and  halls.  Vainly  did  the  Presi- 
dent's defenders  show  that  the  gold  spoons  were  mostly 
plated  ware,  and  that  the  spittoons,  like  the  other 
furniture,  were  the  property  of  the  Government :  the 
voters  who  ate  their  porridge  from  wooden  vessels  and 
threw  their  quids  into  boxes  of  sawdust  were  resolved 
upon  putting  into  his  place  a  man  of  different  type. 
Henry  Clay,  passing  the  White  House  one  day  when 

[  172] 


Through    Many    Changing    Years 

a  blaze  broke  out  in  the  laundry,  joined  the  firemen 
in  helping  to  extinguish  it,  remarking  jocularly  to  the 
President :  "Though  we  are  bound  to  have  you  out 
of  here,  Mr.  Van  Buren,  we  don't  want  you  burned 
out." 

Harrison  was  elected.  He  was  sixty-eight  when 
he  arrived  in  Washington  in  February,  1841,  and  was 
in  delicate  health,  but  affected  a  vain  pretense  of 
robustness.  Though  the  day  was  chilly,  with  snow 
thinly  covering  the  streets  and  a  cold  rain  falling,  he 
declined  to  enter  a  carriage,  and  walked  half  a  mile  to 
the  City  Hall  with  his  hat  in  his  hand,  bowing  to  the 
people  on  either  side  of  the  street.  At  the  hall  he  stood 
on  the  portico,  still  uncovered,  while  the  Mayor  made 
a  speech  of  welcome  and  he  responded.  His  exposure 
gave  him  a  cold  which,  following  his  fatigues  and  excite- 
ment, brought  on  a  serious  nervous  attack,  and  this 
was  not  improved  by  the  prospect  of  a  wearisome 
inaugural  ceremony.  He  had  only  a  common  school 
education,  but  had  read  a  good  deal,  particularly 
ancient  history.  Mr.  Webster,  whom  he  had  selected 
for  Secretary  of  State,  recognizing  his  literary  limita- 
tions, composed  an  excellent  inaugural  address  and 
carried  it  to  him,  saying  in  explanation:  "I  feared 
lest,  with  all  you  are  called  upon  to  do  just  now,  you 
might  not  find  time  to  do  anything  of  this  sort." 

[  173  ] 


Walks  About   Washington 

"Oh,  yes,"  answered  Harrison,  cheerfully,  producing 
a  packet  of  neatly  written  sheets,  "I  attended  to  all 
that  before   leaving  home." 

Webster  tactfully  contrived  to  induce  him  to  ex- 
change manuscripts,  "so  that  each  author  could  read 
the  other's  production,  and  whichever  proved  the 
better  could  be  used." 

But  the  next  day  Harrison  handed  back  Webster's 
paper  with  the  remark:  "If  I  were  to  read  your  ad- 
dress, everybody  would  know  you  wrote  it.  Mine  is 
not  so  good,  but  at  least  it  is  mine,  and  I  shall  prefer 
my  own  poor  work  to  your  brilliant  one."  As  a  last 
resort  Webster  offered  to  revise  Harrison's  address, 
and  Harrison  consented,  though  very  reluctantly. 
Webster  struggled  with  his  task  a  whole  day,  chopping 
out  paragraph  after  paragraph  of  classical  citations. 
When  a  lady  that  evening  inquired  what  he  had  been 
doing  to  make  him  look  so  ill,  he  exclaimed:  "You'd 
be  ill,  too,  if  you  had  committed  all  the  crimes  I  have. 
Within  twelve  hours  I  have  killed  seventeen  Roman 
pro-consuls — dead  as    smelts,   every  man  of  them!" 

Though  compelled  to  sacrifice  so  much  of  his  antique 
lore,  Harrison  was  not  to  be  argued  out  of  his  resolve 
to  ride  a  white  horse  to  and  from  his  inauguration, 
having  read  of  sundry  great  Romans  who  thus  trav- 
ersed the  Appian  Way.     He  refused,  too,  to  wear  an 

[1741 


Through    Many    Changing    Years 

overcoat  on  the  fourth  of  March,  notwithstanding  that 
he  had  a  heavy  cold,  and  that  a  stiff  gale  was  blowing 
which  searched  the  vitals  of  most  men  in  thick  gar- 
ments. Nor  would  he  consent  to  cover  his  head  while 
delivering  his  address,  which  was  a  protest  against 
executive  usurpation,  the  corruption  of  the  press,  and 
the  abuses  of  party  spirit.  Few  who  heard  it  realized 
how  near  they  had  come  to  witnessing  no  inaugu- 
ral ceremony  that  day.  It  had  been  arranged  that 
Harrison  should  join  the  procession  for  the  Capitol  at 
the  house  of  a  friend  whom  he  was  visiting,  but  he 
was  in  such  a  state  of  nervous  exhaustion  that  he 
fainted  twice  before  the  time  came  to  start.  His  com- 
panions bathed  his  temples  with  brandy,  and  the 
physician  they  called  in  forbade  his  going  out  of  doors 
unless  in  a  carriage ;  but  he  would  hear  to  no  change 
of  plans,  and  managed,  by  sheer  force  of  will,  not  only 
to  perform  his  part  at  the  Capitol,  but  to  hold  an  after- 
noon reception  at  the  White  House  and  in  the  evening 
to  look  in  at  two  or  three  balls  with  which  the  Whigs 
were  celebrating  their  triumph. 

During  the  fortnight  that  followed,  he  did  his  best 
to  conceal  his  increasing  feebleness,  even  going  in  per- 
son to  market  every  morning  when  he  was  able.  But  a 
succession  of  colds  presently  ran  into  pneumonia,  and 
the   office-seekers    hounded   him   not   the   less    cruelly 

[1751 


Walks   About    Washington 

after  this.  Just  one  month  from  the  day  of  his  inau- 
guration, death  came  to  his  rehef.  Mrs.  Harrison, 
who  had  been  too  ill  to  accompany  him  to  Washing- 
ton, never  saw  him  from  the  day  he  parted  with  her  in 
Ohio  till  his  body  was  brought  back  to  her  for  burial. 


[176] 


CHAPTER  VII 

"THE   SPIRIT  OF  GREAT  EVENTS" 

JOHN  TYLER,  the  first  Vice-president  to  receive 
promotion  to  the  Presidency  in  mid-term,  was 
at  his  home  in  Virginia  when  Harrison  died. 
He  came  to  Washington  at  once  and  took  lodgings  at  a 
hotel,  where,  two  days  later,  he  was  sworn  in  by  Chief 
Judge  Cranch  of  the  Circuit  Court  of  the  District. 
His  administration  was  not  picturesque  in  the  usual 
sense ;  the  most  it  gave  people  to  talk  about  was  his 
narrow  escape  from  impeachment  for  deserting  the 
party  which  elected  him.  But  his  unpopularity  bore 
valuable  fruit  for  Washington.  When  the  partisan 
excitement  was  at  its  highest  pitch,  a  company  of 
local  politicians  went  to  the  White  House  one  night 
and,  drawn  up  in  front  of  it,  "groaned"  their  disap- 
proval of  Tyler's  conduct.  To  protect  the  Presiden- 
tial ofhce  from  further  indignities  of  that  sort,  a  bill 
was  introduced  in  the  Senate  to  establish  an  "auxil- 
iary guard"  for  the  defense  of  the  public  and  private 
property   against   incendiaries,   and   "for  the   enforce- 

[^77] 


Walks  About    Washington 

ment  of  the  police  regulations  of  the  city  of  Washing- 
ton," with  an  appropriation  of  seven  thousand  dollars 
to  equip  a  captain  and  fifteen  men  with  the  proper 
implements  to  distinguish  them  in  the  discharge  of 
their  duty.  This  was  the  foundation  of  the  Metropoli- 
tan Police  force,  which  now  numbers  seventy-five 
officers  and  more  than  six  hundred  privates. 

Life  at  the  White  House  was  simple  in  Tyler's  time. 
The  President  was  in  the  habit  of  rising  with  the  sun, 
lighting  a  fire  that  had  been  laid  overnight  in  his  study, 
and  working  at  his  desk  till  breakfast  was  served  at 
eight  o'clock.  At  this  meal  he  insisted  on  having  the 
ladies  of  his  family  appear  in  calico  frocks.  In  the 
evening  all  the  household  would  gather  in  the  green 
parlor  and  pass  an  hour  or  two  in  entertaining  any 
visitors  who  happened  in,  interspersing  conversation 
with  piano  music  and  old-fashioned  songs.  It  was 
Tyler  who  introduced  the  custom  of  periodical  open- 
air  concerts  by  the  Marine  Band ;  and  on  warm  Sat- 
urday afternoons  the  garden  south  of  the  White  House 
was  a  favorite  resort  of  the  best  people  of  the  city, 
while  the  President  would  sit  with  his  family  and  a 
few  invited  guests  on  the  porch,  listening  to  the  music 
and  responding  to  the  salutations  of  his  acquaintances. 
Tyler  is  rarely  suspected  of  possessing  a  strong  sense 
of  humor ;    but  he  must  have  smiled  when  he  signed 

[178] 


"  The   Spirit   of  Great   Events  ** 

an  official  letter  to  the  Emperor  of  China,  in  which  he 
described  himself  as  "President  of  the  United  States 
of  America,  which  States  are  Maine,  New  Hampshire, 
Massachusetts,  Rhode  Island,  Connecticut,  Vermont, 
New  York,  New  Jersey,  Pennsylvania,  Delaware, 
Maryland,  Virginia,  North  Carolina,  South  Carolina, 
Georgia,  Kentucky,  Tennessee,  Ohio,  Louisiana,  Indi- 
ana, Mississippi,  Illinois,  Alabama,  Missouri,  Arkansas, 
and  Michigan" — an  array  which  so  impressed  the 
mind  of  the  Celestial  despot  that  the  envoy  who  pre- 
sented the  missive  got  everything  he  asked  for. 

Tyler  lost  his  wife  soon  after  he  entered  the  White 
House,  and  his  daughters  presided  over  the  domestic 
life  there.  He  was  fond  of  young  society,  and  one  of 
the  belles  who  appeared  pretty  regularly  at  his  parties 
was  Miss  Virginia  Timberlake,  daughter  of  the  unfor- 
tunate naval  purser  and  the  lady  whose  cause  Jack- 
son and  Van  Buren  had  championed.  Another  was 
Miss  Julia  Gardiner  of  New  York,  who  so  captivated 
him  that  at  one  of  his  receptions  in  the  second  year  of 
his  term  he  made  her  a  proposal  of  marriage.  As  she 
described  it  afterward,  she  was  taken  wholly  by  sur- 
prise, and  gave  her  "No,  no,  no!"  such  emphasis  by 
shaking  her  head  that  she  whisked  the  tassel  of  her 
crimson  Greek  cap  into  his  face  with  every  motion. 
The  controlling  reason  for  her  refusal,  she  explained, 

[  179] 


Walks  About    Washington 

was  her  unwillingness  to  leave  her  father,  to  whom  she 
was  devotedly  attached  ;  but  an  accident  soon  changed 
the  whole  face  of  things. 

Captain  Stockton  of  the  navy  invited  a  party  of 
about  four  hundred  ladies  and  gentlemen  to  inspect 
the  sloop-of-war  Princeton,  then  lying  in  the  Potomac. 
President  Tyler,  the  members  of  his  Cabinet  and  their 
families,  and  a  good  many  Congressmen  were  among 
the  guests.  The  vessel  had  dropped  down  the  river  to 
a  point  near  Mount  Vernon,  when  some  of  the  party 
importuned  Stockton  to  fire  his  big  gun,  nicknamed 
"the  peacemaker."  This  was  just  at  the  close  of  the 
luncheon,  and  the  ladies  had  lingered  at  table  while 
most  of  the  gentlemen  went  on  deck.  One  lady,  for- 
tunately, had  detained  Tyler  as  he  was  about  to  leave, 
by  inducing  him  to  listen  to  a  song ;  for  the  gun  ex- 
ploded, killing  Mr.  Upshur,  Secretary  of  State,  Mr. 
Gilmer,  Secretary  of  the  Navy,  Commander  Kennon  of 
the  navy,  Virgil  Maxey,  lately  American  Minister  at 
the  Hague,  and  David  Gardiner  of  New  York,  the 
father  of  Miss  Julia.  A  day  of  merrymaking  was  thus 
turned  into  one  of  mourning,  as  the  vessel  slowly  moved 
up  the  stream  again,  bearing  the  bodies  of  the  dead, 
for  whom  funeral  services  were  held  at  the  White 
House.  After  an  interval  the  President  renewed  his 
suit  and  found  Miss  Gardiner  more  pliant.     When  he 

[i8o] 


Soldiers'  Home 


'    a  >  '  »   3 


J      >  '  J 


t-        fir 

=  '■  '  • , 


"  The   Spirit   of  Great   Events  '* 

had  composed  in  her  honor  a  serenade  beginning, 
"Sweet  lady,  awake!"  she  agreed  to  marry  him  if  her 
mother  would  consent.  Her  mother  did  not  approve 
of  a  union  between  a  man  of  fifty-six  and  a  girl  of 
twenty,  but,  as  she  did  not  actually  forbid  it,  they  had 
a  very  quiet  wedding. 

In  spite  of  the  enjoyment  he  took  in  social  intercourse, 
Tyler  was  often  criticized  for  his  frigid  manners.  A 
virulent  type  of  influenza  which  became  epidemic 
during  his  administration  received  the  name  of  "the 
Tyler  grip,"  from  the  remark  of  a  Boston  man  who  fell 
ill  a  few  hours  after  being  presented  to  him :  "I  prob- 
ably caught  cold  from  shaking  hands  with  the  Presi- 
dent." A  good  deal  was  made  of  this  in  the  campaign 
of  1844,  and  added  point  to  John  Quincy  Adams's 
denunciation  of  Tyler  for  "performing  with  a  young 
girl  from  New  York  the  old  fable  of  January  and 
May!"  Tyler's  general  unpopularity,  and  a  deadlock 
between  two  other  prominent  candidates,  led  the 
Democrats  to  nominate  James  K.  Polk  for  President. 
He  was  so  little  known  to  most  of  the  voters  that 
throughout  the  campaign  the  Whigs,  who  were  sup- 
porting Henry  Clay,  rang  the  changes  on  the  question, 
"Who  is  James  K.  Polk.^"  thus  contrasting  his  ob- 
scurity with  Clay's  eminence.  The  count  of  ballots 
showed  that  a  candidate  of  whom  little  was   known 

[181] 


Walks   About    Washington 

might  have  certain  advantages  over  one  long  before 
the  public  eye ;  and  as  on  inauguration  day  it  rained 
heavily,  exultant  Democrats  kept  themselves  warm  by 
hurling  back  at  the  Whigs  the  familiar  cry,  "Who  is 
James  K.  Polk?"  and  then  laughing  wildly  at  their 
own  humor.  It  was  on  this  occasion  that  the  tele- 
graph first  conveyed  out  of  Washington  the  news  that 
one  President  had  retired  and  another  had  come  in  — 
Professor  Morse  having  set  up  an  instrument  at  the 
edge  of  the  platform  on  which  the  President-elect  stood, 
and  ticked  off  a  report  of  the  proceedings  as  they 
occurred. 

Mrs.  Polk  being  a  devoted  church-member,  of  a 
school  which  disapproved  of  dancing,  the  inaugural 
ball  that  evening  shrank  into  a  mere  promenade  con- 
cert till  after  she  and  her  husband  had  quitted  the 
hall.  The  social  activities  of  the  Polks,  through  the 
four  years  which  followed,  were  consistent  with  this 
beginning,  all  the  functions  at  the  White  House  being 
too  sober  to  suit  the  diplomats  or  the  younger  element 
among  the  resident  population.  On  its  practical  side, 
Polk's  term  was  perhaps  the  most  notable  in  that  gen- 
eration, including  as  it  did  the  war  with  Mexico,  which 
resulted  in  the  annexation  of  California  and  the  great 
southwestern  area  afterward  carved  into  the  States  of 
Utah,  Nevada,  and  Arizona  and  parts  of  Wyoming, 

[182] 


"  The   Spirit   of  Great   Events  '* 

Colorado,  and  New  Mexico.  This  war,  moreover, 
furnished  the  usual  crop  of  Presidential  candidates, 
chief  among  them  General  Zachary  Taylor,  who  had 
led  the  first  army  across  the  Rio  Grande,  and  General 
Winfield  Scott,  who  had  wound  up  the  invasion  by 
capturing  the  city  of  Mexico. 

Believing  Taylor  the  easier  to  handle,  the  Whig 
managers  fixed  upon  him,  although,  having  passed  the 
larger  part  of  his  sixty-four  years  with  the  army,  he 
had  never  voted.  Indeed,  he  had  always  expressed 
an  aversion  to  ofHce-holding,  and,  when  approached 
on  the  subject  of  the  Presidency,  met  the  overture  with 
frank  disfavor,  declaring  that  he  had  neither  the  ca- 
pacity nor  the  experience  needed  for  such  a  position. 
But  his  "availability"  overcame  the  force  of  his  pro- 
tests, and  the  Whigs  won  with  him  a  sweeping  victory 
at  the  polls.  There  is  pathos  in  the  story  of  the  break- 
up of  the  pleasant  home  in  Baton  Rouge,  and  the  re- 
luctant removal  of  the  family  to  Washington,  taking 
with  them  only  a  faithful  negro  servant,  a  favorite  dog, 
and  "Old  Whitey,"  the  horse  the  General  had  ridden 
through  the  Mexican  war.  Taylor  was  with  difficulty 
dissuaded  from  his  purpose  of  imitating  his  military 
predecessors  and  riding  "Old  Whitey"  either  to  or 
from  the  Capitol  on  inauguration  day.  What  his 
friends  most  feared  was  his  loss  of  dignity  in  the  eyes 

[183] 


Walks   About    Washington 

of  the  crowd,  for  his  legs  were  so  short  that,  in  certain 
emergencies,  an  orderly  had  to  lift  one  of  them  over 
his  horse's  flanks  whenever  he  mounted  or  dismounted. 

Taylor  was  as  simple  a  soul  as  Harrison.  His  unos- 
tentatious ways  in  the  army  had  led  the  soldiers  to 
dub  him  "Old  Rough  and  Ready,"  and  this  title  stuck 
to  him  always  afterward.  One  of  his  favorite  amuse- 
ments was  to  walk  about  Washington,  chatting  infor- 
mally with  people  he  met  and  watching  whatever  was 
going  on  in  the  streets.  His  love  of  comfort  was  such 
that  he  could  never  be  induced  to  wear  clothes  that 
fitted  him,  but  his  suits  were  always  a  size  or  two 
larger  than  his  measure,  and  these,  with  a  black  silk 
hat  set  far  back  on  his  head,  made  him  recognizable  at 
any  distance.  His  message  at  the  opening  of  Congress 
contained  one  announcement  as  voluminous  as  his 
costume :  "We  are  at  peace  with  all  the  nations  of  the 
world,  and  the  rest  of  mankind."  The  bull  was  dis- 
covered too  late  to  prevent  its  going  out  in  the  original 
print ;  but  in  a  revised  edition  the  sentence  was  made 
to  end  :  "And  seek  to  maintain  our  cherished  relations 
of  amity  with  them." 

The  White  House  underwent  another  grand  refur- 
bishing while  the  Taylors  were  in  it.  The  east  room 
was  newly  carpeted,  its  walls  were  decorated,  and  gas 
replaced   its    candles    and   lamps.     The   ladies   of   the 

[  184  ] 


"  The   Spirit   of  Great   Events " 

family  were  good  housekeepers  —  particularly  the 
younger  daughter,  who  made  the  old  place  look  actually 
homelike,  and  whom  an  appreciative  guest  described 
as  doing  the  honors  "with  the  artlessness  of  a  rustic 
belle  and  the  grace  of  a  duchess."  But  this  pleasant 
picture  was  soon  to  be  clouded  over.  On  the  fourth 
of  July,  1850,  a  patriotic  meeting  was  held  at  the  base 
of  the  Washington  National  Monument,  with  long 
addresses  by  prominent  men.  It  lasted  the  whole  of 
a  very  hot  afternoon,  and  President  Taylor,  as  a  guest 
of  honor,  felt  bound  to  stay  through  it,  refreshing  him- 
self from  time  to  time  with  copious  drafts  of  ice-water. 
He  reached  home  in  a  state  of  some  exhaustion 
and  at  once  ate  a  basketful  of  cherries  and  drank 
several  glasses  of  iced  milk.  From  a  party  to  which 
he  had  accepted  an  invitation  for  that  evening  he  was 
obliged  to  excuse  himself  at  the  last  moment  on  the 
score  of  indisposition.  He  was  violently  ill  through- 
out the  night,  and  five  days  later  he  died. 

Millard  Fillmore  of  New  York,  fifty  years  old,  of 
moderate  political  views  and  fair  ability,  was  Vice- 
president  at  the  time.  Unlike  Tyler,  he  went  to  the 
Capitol  to  be  sworn  in  the  presence  of  a  committee  of 
the  two  houses,  but  made  no  inaugural  address.  Mrs. 
Fillmore,  who  had  formerly  been  a  teacher,  cared  little 
for    society.     She    was    of   studious    habits    and    soon 

[1851 


Walks  About    Washington 

converted  the  oval  sitting  room  in  the  second  story 
of  the  White  House  into  a  library,  personally  selecting 
the  books.  Her  taste  ran  chiefly  to  standard  histori- 
cal and  classical  works  ;  and,  as  the  editions  then  avail- 
able were  generally  not  very  good  specimens  of  the 
typographic  art,  most  of  her  collection  has  disap- 
peared. In  this  administration  the  Fugitive  Slave  Act 
was  passed,  and  Fillmore,  by  signing  it,  alienated  the 
North  so  largely  that  the  Whig  party  refused  to  nomi- 
nate him  for  another  term.  General  Scott,  to  whom 
it  turned,  did  precisely  what  most  of  the  politicians  had 
predicted  he  would :  made  a  number  of  public  utter- 
ances which  ruined  his  chances  and  thus  gave  the 
election  to  his  Democratic  competitor,  Franklin  Pierce 
of  New  Hampshire. 

During  Fillmore's  term  Louis  Kossuth  visited  Wash- 
ington. The  country  was  just  passing  through  one  of 
its  occasional  periods  of  revolutionary  fervor,  and 
Kossuth's  stand  for  the  rights  of  Hungary  against 
Austria  had  aroused  much  sympathy  here.  Our  public 
men  were  divided  in  opinion  as  to  how  far  to  go  with 
their  demonstrations  in  his  favor,  wishing  to  win  the 
support  of  the  Hungarians  in  the  United  States  and 
of  immigrants  who  had  fled  from  other  countries  to 
escape  oppression,  yet  hoping  to  keep  clear  of  entangle- 
ments with  Austria.     As   Kossuth  had  left  home  to 

[i86] 


"  The   Spirit   of  Great   Evefits  " 

escape  death  for  high  treason  and  taken  refuge  in  Con- 
stantinople, one  of  our  men-of-war  was  sent  to  the 
Dardanelles  to  bring  him  to  America.  He  did  not  then 
care  to  go  further  than  England,  whence,  after  an 
agreeable  visit,  he  came  over,  in  the  expectation  of 
inducing  our  Government  to  take  up  arms  for  Hun- 
garian liberty.  Henry  Clay,  who  was  already  stricken 
with  his  last  illness,  promptly  put  a  damper  upon 
that  scheme ;  but  Kossuth  remained  the  guest  of  the 
nation  for  a  time  and  was  dined  and  feted  prodigiously. 
He  maintained  the  state  of  a  royal  personage,  keeping 
a  uniformed  and  armed  guard  about  the  door  of  his 
suite  of  apartments  at  what  is  now  the  Metropolitan 
Hotel,  and  a  lot  of  carousing  young  subalterns  always 
in  his  anteroom.  He  never  appeared  in  public  except 
in  full  military  uniform,  with  his  cavalry  sword,  in  its 
steel  scabbard,  clanking  by  his  side.  Mrs.  Kossuth, 
who  accompanied  him  on  his  tour,  was  unable  to  over- 
come her  distrust  of  American  cooking,  and  used  to 
scandalize  her  neighbors  at  table  by  ostentatiously 
smelling  of  every  new  dish  before  tasting  it. 

The  inauguration  of  Pierce  was  marked  by  several 
innovations  :  he  drove  to  and  from  the  Capitol  stand- 
ing up  in  his  carriage,  delivered  his  address  without 
notes,  and  made  affirmation  instead  of  taking  the 
oath  of  office.     A  tragic  interest  attaches  itself  to  his 

[187] 


Walks   About    Washington 

administration,  because,  just  as  he  was  preparing  to 
remove  to  Washington,  he  lost  his  only  child,  a  boy 
of  thirteen,  in  a  railway  accident.  Mrs.  Pierce,  who 
was  an  invalid,  was  terribly  broken  by  this  bereave- 
ment, and  all  social  festivities  at  the  White  House 
were  abandoned  till  toward  the  close  of  her  stay  there. 
The  new  Vice-president,  William  R.  King,  was  not 
inaugurated  at  the  same  time  and  place  with  the  Pres- 
ident. He  had  gone  to  Cuba  in  January  for  his  health, 
and,  as  he  was  not  well  enough  to  come  home,  Congress 
passed  a  special  act  permitting  him  to  take  the  oath 
before  the  American  Consul-general  at  Havana.  Soon 
after  his  return  to  the  United  States,  in  April,  he  died. 
Nathaniel  Hawthorne,  who  was  a  college  mate  and 
intimate  friend  of  Pierce,  was  anxious  to  see  some- 
thing of  Europe,  but  had  not  the  means  to  gratify  his 
desire ;  so  Pierce  appointed  him  consul  at  Liverpool, 
where  he  was  able  to  live  in  comfort  on  his  pay  and 
save  enough  for  a  sojourn  on  the  Continent.  To  this 
experience  American  literature  owes  most  of  his  later 
work,  including  "The  Marble  Faun"  and  "Our  Old 
Home."  In  Washington  still  linger  stories  of  a  visit 
Hawthorne  paid  the  city  about  the  time  of  his  ap- 
pointment. Pierce  tried  to  show  him  some  informal 
attentions ;  but  Hawthorne's  shyness,  which  went  to 
such  an  extreme  that  he  could  not  say  anything  to  the 

[i88] 


ii 


The   Spirit  of  Great   Events " 


lady  next  him  at  table  without  trembling  and  blush- 
ing, prevented  his  making  much  headway  socially. 

All  through  Pierce's  term,  political  conditions  were 
working  up  to  the  point  which  caused  the  irruption  of 
a  few  years  later.  The  habit  of  carrying  deadly  weap- 
ons on  the  person  became  so  common  in  Washington, 
especially  in  Congress,  that  scarcely  an  altercation 
occurred  between  two  men  without  the  exposure,  if 
not  the  use,  of  a  pistol  or  a  dirk.  The  newspapers  in 
their  serious  columns  treated  such  incidents  severely, 
while  the  comic  paragraphers  satirized  them ;  and 
Preston  Brooks,  a  Representative  from  South  Caro- 
lina, in  a  half-earnest,  half-cynical  vein,  gave  notice 
one  day  of  his  intention  to  offer  this  amendment  to 
the  rules  of  the  House  :  "Any  member  who  shall  bring 
into  the  House  a  concealed  weapon,  shall  be  expelled 
by  a  vote  of  two-thirds.  The  Sergeant-at-Arms  shall 
cause  a  suitable  rack  to  be  erected  in  the  rotunda,  where 
members  who  are  addicted  to  carrying  concealed 
weapons  shall  be  required  to  place  them  for  the  inspec- 
tion of  the  curious,' so  long  as  the  owners  are  employed 
in  legislation." 

Senator  Sumner  of  Massachusetts  having,  a  few 
days  later,  in  a  speech  on  slavery,  spoken  disparagingly 
of  a  South  Carolina  Senator  who  was  absent,  Brooks, 
on  the  twenty-second  of  May,  1856,  entered  the  Senate 

[189] 


Walks   About    Washington 

chamber  when  it  was  nearly  deserted,  and,  with  a 
heavy  gutta-percha  cane,  rained  blows  with  all  his 
strength  upon  the  head  of  Sumner,  who  was  quietly 
writing  at  his  desk.  Sumner  fell  to  the  floor  and  for 
some  days  thereafter  hovered  between  life  and  death. 
He  was  three  or  four  years  in  recovering  from  the  direct 
effects  of  the  assault,  and  never  was  entirely  restored 
to  health  and  strength.  The  incident  excited  bitter 
feeling  throughout  both  North  and  South.  For  de- 
nouncing the  assault  as  paralleling  that  of  Cain  upon 
Abel,  Representative  Anson  Burlingame  of  New  York 
was  challenged  by  Brooks ;  he  accepted  the  challenge, 
naming  date,  place,  and  weapons,  but  Brooks  failed 
to  appear  on  the  field. 

The  next  President  was  James  Buchanan  of  Pennsyl- 
vania, also  a  Democrat.  The  two  incidents  in  his 
term  which  most  impressed  Washington  were  the  first 
successful  experiments  with  the  Atlantic  cable  in 
August,  1858,  and  the  visit  to  the  White  House  of  the 
Prince  of  Wales,  who  later  became  King  Edward  VH. 
Cyrus  W.  Field,  after  a  struggle  as  soul-wearing  as 
Morse's  over  the  introduction  of  the  telegraph,  suc- 
ceeded in  making  his  submarine  cable  work  and  in- 
duced Queen  Victoria  to  send  the  first  despatch,  a 
message  of  greeting  to  President  Buchanan,  who  was 
requested  to  answer  it  in  kind.     The  skepticism  of  the 

[  190  ] 


'*  "  The   Spirit  of  Great   Events  " 

day  toward  all  scientific  novelties  was  reflected  in 
Buchanan's  summoning  a  newspaper  correspondent 
whom  he  trusted  and  begging  to  be  told  frankly 
whether  he  were  not  the  victim  of  a  hoax.  At  the 
White  House  all  the  members  of  the  Cabinet  were 
gathered,  earnestly  debating  the  same  question.  The 
most  stubborn  disbeliever  was  the  Secretary  of  the 
Treasury,  Howell  Cobb,  who  jeered  at  the  whole  thing 
as  a  wild  absurdity.  In  spite  of  Cobb's  resistance, 
the  correspondent  persuaded  the  President  to  answer 
the  Queen's  message.  As  bad  luck  would  have  it, 
the  cable  parted  in  mid-ocean  soon  thereafter  and 
was  not  restored  to  working  order  for  several  years ; 
and  in  the  interval  the  skeptics  were  appropriately 
exultant. 

Buchanan,  who  was  our  first  bachelor  President, 
was  sometimes  slangily  called  "the  O.  P.  F.,"  having 
once  referred  to  himself  in  a  message  as  an  "old  pub- 
lic functionary."  The  image  of  him  carried  in  the 
popular  mind  is  derived  from  contemporaneous  pic- 
tures, which  show  him  as  a  stifi",  precise,  ministerial- 
looking  old  man,  wearing  a  black  coat,  a  high  choker 
collar,  and  a  spotless  white  neckerchief.  But  this 
was  the  style  of  the  day  in  portraiture  and  must  not 
be  accepted  too  literally.  The  late  Frederick  O. 
Prince  of  Boston  used  to  tell  of  a  morning  call  he  paid 

[1911 


W^alks   About    Washi?tgton 

Buchanan,  whom  he  had  imagined  a  model  of  formal- 
ity and  elegance,  and  of  his  astonishment  when  the 
President  entered  the  room  clad  in  a  greenish  figured 
dressing-gown,  woolen  socks,  and  carpet  slippers,  and, 
to  put  the  standing  visitors  at  their  ease,  called  to  a 
servant:    "Jeems,  sit  some  cheers!" 

When  Buchanan  came  to  Washington  for  his  inaugu- 
ration, attended  by  a  number  of  Pennsylvania  friends, 
he  took  lodgings  at  the  National  Hotel,  where  the  whole 
party  fell  ill  with  symptoms  which  to-day  we  should 
charge  to  ptomaine  poisoning.  One  or  two  of  the 
sufferers  died.  Buchanan  escaped  with  a  compara- 
tively light  attack ;  but  a  rumor  gained  circulation 
that  the  Free  Soilers  had  tried  to  assassinate  him  be- 
cause of  his  conservative  disposition  toward  slavery. 
For  some  time  after  he  entered  the  White  House,  there- 
fore, the  police  kept  a  watch  on  his  movements,  and 
one  rough-looking  Kansan  was  arrested  on  suspicion, 
having  bought  an  air-gun  and  engaged  a  room  in  a 
building  which  the  President  was  in  the  habit  of  pass- 
ing every  day  when  he  went  out  for  exercise. 

The  domestic  accommodations  at  the  White  House 
were  already  so  limited  that,  when  the  Prince  of  Wales 
visited  it  in  i860,  the  President  had  to  give  up  his 
bedchamber  to  his  guest  and  sleep  on  a  cot  in  the  ante- 
room of  his  office.     As  I  recall  the  Prince  he  was  not 

[  192  ] 


Old  City  Hall 


'     >      t  ■>  11 


I 


FA 


^■i 


m 


k9i 


'% 


^-ry;^  i-  . 


i 


!!/#• 


m 


* 


>  "  The   Spirit   of  Great   Events  " 

inordinately  tall,  but  for  some  reason  —  possibly  be- 
cause the  legs  of  royalty  were  supposed  to  need  more 
space  than  those  of  common  folk  —  the  old  bedstead 
in  the  President's  room  was  replaced  by  one  of  extra 
length.  Society  in  Washington  was  agog  over  the 
Prince's  advent,  and  the  reigning  belles  insisted  that 
his  entertainment  must  include  a  ball  at  least  as  bril- 
liant as  that  given  in  his  honor  in  New  York ;  but 
Mr.  Buchanan,  whose  ideas  on  certain  subjects  were 
rigid,  would  not  listen  to  the  suggestion  of  dancing  in 
the  White  House,  and  the  ball  was  turned  over  to  the 
British  legation.  Miss  Harriet  Lane,  the  President's 
niece,  who  managed  his  household  affairs,  gave  instead 
a  large  musicale,  at  which  was  performed  for  the  first 
time  the  once  favorite  song,  "The  Mocking  Bird," 
its  composer  having  dedicated  it  to  her. 

Trained  as  attorney,  diplomatist,  and  politician,  to 
regard  the  letter  of  the  law  rather  than  its  spirit,  Bu- 
chanan found  himself  in  an  unhappy  situation  when  the 
preliminary  mutterings  of  sectional  warfare  grew  loud. 
In  January,  1861,  he  was  urged  by  some  of  the  Cabinet 
to  recall  Major  Robert  Anderson  from  Charleston  Har- 
bor as  a  rebuke  for  having  removed  the  Fort  Moultrie 
garrison  to  the  stronger  Fort  Sumter  without  orders 
from  Washington,  and  he  was  holding  the  matter  under 
advisement  when  Justice  McLean  of  the  Supreme  Court 

[  193  ] 


Walks  About    Washington 

came  to  dine  with  him  one  evening.  After  the  ladies 
had  left  the  table,  the  Justice  drew  the  President  aside 
and  inquired  what  was  going  to  be  done  about  the 
Major.  "Anderson  has  exceeded  his  instructions,'^ 
answered  Buchanan,  "and  must  be  disciplined."  Mc- 
Lean raised  his  hand  and  fairly  shook  it  in  the  Presi- 
dent's face  as  he  ejaculated  :  "You  dare  not  do  it,  sir  ! 
You  dare  not  do  it!"  This  unique  defiance  of  the 
executive  by  the  judiciary  had  an  immediate  effect : 
Major  Anderson  was  left  undisturbed,  to  become 
within  a  few  weeks  the  first  hero  of  the  Civil  War. 

General  Scott,  who  filled  a  large  place  in  national 
affairs  from  Polk's  administration  till  the  autumn  of 
1861,  was  a  good  officer  and  a  pure  patriot  but  full 
of  eccentricities.  His  love  for  military  forms  gave 
him  the  nickname  "Old  .Fuss  and  Feathers,"  and  a 
letter  he  wrote  during  the  Mexican  war,  excusing  his 
absence  from  his  headquarters  when  the  Secretary  of 
War  called  there,  on  the  plea  that  he  had  just  stepped 
out  to  get  "a  hasty  plate  of  soup,"  had  won  for  him  the 
punning  title  "Marshal  Turenne."  He  was  a  good 
deal  of  a  gourmet  and  did  his  family  marketing  himself, 
especially  delighting  in  the  delicacy  which  he  persisted 
in  calling  "tarrapin,"  and  ordering  his  oysters  by  the 
barrel.  One  of  his  favorite  dishes  was  pork  jowl,  and 
once  he  told  of  having  eaten  sauerkraut   "with  tears 

[  194  1 


"  The   Spirit   of  Great   Events " 

in  his  eyes."  He  was  a  keen  stickler  for  the  dignity 
due  him  on  all  occasions.  Just  after  Taylor  had  been 
inaugurated  President,  the  two  men  met  in  Washing- 
ton for  the  first  time  since  a  somewhat  acrimonious 
parting  in  Mexico.  Taylor,  passing  over  old  animos- 
ities, invited  Scott  to  call.  Scott  did  so  the  next 
day,  and  Taylor,  who  was  engaged  with  some  other 
gentlemen  in  his  office,  sent  word  that  he  would  be 
down  in  a  moment.  Five  minutes  later,  having  cut 
his  business  short,  the  President  descended  to  the 
parlor,  to  find  his  visitor  already  gone :  Scott  had 
waited  two  minutes  by  the  clock  and  then  stalked 
in  high  dudgeon  out  of  the  door,  not  to  come  back 
again. 

The  drama  of  the  Lincoln  administration,  on  which 
the  curtain  rose  to  a  bugle-blast  and  fell  to  the  beat  of 
muffled  drums,  deserves  a  volume  to  itself ;  but  in  my 
limited  space  I  have  been  able  to  outline  only  some  of 
its  features  directly  related  to  the  capital  city.  Lin- 
coln's first  levee  was  held  not  in  the  White  House  but 
at  Willard's  Hotel,  some  days  before  the  inaugura- 
tion. The  higher  public  functionaries  and  their  wives, 
and  a  number  of  private  citizens  of  prominence,  had 
been  notified  rather  than  invited  to  come  to  the  hotel 
on  a  certain  evening  for  a  first  glimpse  of  the  new  chief 
magistrate.     Into    this    presence    stalked    the    lank, 

[I9S] 


U^alks   About    W^ashington 

loose-jointed,  oddly  clad  "Old  Abe,"  with  his  little, 
simple,  white-shawled  wife  at  his  elbow,  and  the  never 
failing  jest  on  his  lips  as  he  made  his  own  announce- 
ment:  "Ladies  and  gentlemen,  let  me  present  to  you 
the  long  and  the  short  of  the  Presidency ! " 

The  Lincolns  received  several  social  courtesies  from 
members  of  Congress  and  others  before  the  fourth  of 
March,  and  on  the  evening  of  that  day  the  usual  inau- 
gural ball  was  given  in  their  honor.  It  was  plain  from 
the  start  that  they  had  not  made  a  favorable  impres- 
sion in  their  new  setting,  for  the  ball  was  a  failure  in 
point  of  attendance ;  few  ladies  wore  fine  costumes, 
and  of  the  men  the  majority  came  in  their  business 
clothes.  As  neither  Mr.  nor  Mrs.  Lincoln  knew  how 
to  dance,  or  felt  enough  confidence  even  to  walk  through 
a  quadrille,  the  early  part  of  the  evening  was  devoted 
to  a  handshaking  performance  which  threw  a  chill 
upon  the  rest.  Mrs.  Lincoln's  feminine  instinct  had 
led  her  to  exchange  the  stuify  frock  and  shawl  of  her 
first  reception  for  a  blue  silk  gown.  Mr.  Buchanan 
had  been  expected  but  sent  belated  regrets ;  and 
Stephen  A.  Douglas,  the  "Little  Giant"  who  always 
became  a  big  one  in  an  emergency,  stepped  into  the 
breach  as  representative  of  the  abdicating  party, 
and  established  himself  as  the  personal  escort  and 
knight-in-waiting   of   Mrs.    Lincoln. 

[196] 


"  The   Spi?^it   of  G?^eat   Events  ** 

In  the  White  House,  Lincoln  took  for  his  office  the 
large  square  room  in  the  second  story  next  the  south- 
east corner,  from  the  windows  of  which  he  could  look 
over  at  the  Virginia  hills.  The  room  adjoining  on  the 
west  was  assigned  to  his  clerks  and  to  visitors  waiting 
for  an  interview.  To  secure  him  a  little  privacy  in 
passing  between  his  office  and  the  oval  library,  a  wooden 
screen  was  run  across  the  south  end  of  the  waiting 
room,  and  behind  this  he  used  to  make  the  transit  in 
fancied  invisibility,  to  the  delight  of  the  people  sitting 
on  the  other  side,  to  whom,  owing  to  his  extraordinary 
height,  the  top  locks  of  his  hair  and  a  bit  of  his  fore- 
head were  exposed  above  the  partition.  He  was  per- 
sistently hounded  by  candidates  for  appointment  to 
office ;  and  it  is  recalled  that  in  one  instance,  where 
two  competitors  for  a  single  place  had  worn  him  out 
with  their  importunities,  he  sent  for  a  pair  of  scales, 
weighing  all  the  petitions  in  favor  of  one  candidate  and 
then  those  of  the  other,  and  giving  the  appointment 
to  the  man  whose  budget  weighed  three-quarters  of 
a  pound  more  than  his  rival's. 

Visitors  admitted  to  his  office  usually  found  him 
very  kind  in  manner,  though  now  and  then  a  satirical 
impulse  would  give  an  edge  to  his  humor.  When  an 
irate  citizen  with  a  grievance  called  and  poured  it  out 
upon   him,   accompanied  by  a  variegated   assortment 

[  197] 


JValks  About    Washington 

of  profanity,  Lincoln  waited  patiently  till  the  speaker 
halted  to  take  breath,  and  then  inquired:  "You're  an 
Episcopalian,  aren't  you  ?" 

"Why  do  you  ask  that?"  demanded  the  visitor, 
momentarily  forgetting  his  anger  in  his  surprise. 

"Because,"  answered  Lincoln,  "Seward's  an  Epis- 
copalian, and  you  swear  just  like  him." 

The  Reverend  Doctor  Bellows  of  New  York,  as  chair- 
man of  the  Sanitary  Commission,  called  once  during 
the  Civil  War  to  tell  Lincoln  of  a  number  of  things  he 
ought  to  do.  Lincoln  listened  with  the  most  flatter- 
ing attention,  slightly  inclining  his  head  in  recognition 
of  every  separate  reminder  of  a  duty  left  unperformed, 
and  at  the  close  of  the  catalogue  remained  a  minute 
or  two  in  silent  meditation.  Then,  throwing  one  of 
his  long  legs  over  an  arm  of  his  chair,  he  looked  up  with 
a  quizzical  smile.  "Dominie,"  said  he,  "how  much 
will  you  take  to  swap  jobs  with  me?" 

He  could  not  always  keep  his  humor  out  of  his  offi- 
cial communications,  as  in  this  despatch  to  General 
Hooker  in  Virginia  :  "If  the  head  of  Lee's  army  is  at 
Martinsburg,  and  the  tail  of  it  on  the  plank  road  be- 
tween Fredericksburg  and  Chancellorsville,  the  animal 
must  be  pretty  slim  somewhere.  Couldn't  you  break 
him?" 

Indeed,   it   was   his   instinctive   discernment   of   the 

[198] 


"  The   Spirit   of  Great   Events  ""^ 

ridiculous  side  of  everything  which,  though  it  gave  his 
enemies  their  chance  to  assail  him  as  a  mountebank 
and  a  jester,  undoubtedly  served  as  a  buffer  to  many 
a  heavy  blow.  Sometimes  his  laughs  were  at  his  own 
expense.  About  the  middle  of  the  war  a  young  man 
from  a  distant  State  procured  an  interview  with  him, 
to  expound  a  project  for  visiting  Richmond  in  the 
disguise  of  a  wandering  organ-grinder  and  making 
drawings  of  the  defenses  of  the  city  for  the  use  of  the 
Union  commanders.  Lincoln  was  so  impressed  that 
he  contributed  one  hundred  and  fifty  dollars  or  more 
to  purchase  the  organ  and  pay  other  preliminary  ex- 
penses. The  young  man  disappeared  for  some  weeks 
and  then  returned  with  a  thrilling  account  of  his 
adventures,  and  with  plats  and  charts  covering  every- 
thing of  military  importance  around  Richmond  and 
at  various  points  on  the  way  thither.  As  a  reward, 
the  President  nominated  him  for  a  second  lieutenancy 
in  the  army  and  spurred  some  other  patriot  into  send- 
ing him  a  brand  new  uniform  and  sword.  After  a 
little,  and  by  accident,  it  came  out  that  the  youth  had 
never  been  anywhere  near  Richmond,  but  had  spent 
the  President's  money  on  a  trip  to  his  home,  where,  at 
his  ease,  he  had  prepared  his  fictitious  report  and  maps. 
Of  course  his  nomination  was  at  once  withdrawn ; 
but  Lincoln  was  so  amused  at  his  own  childlike  cre- 

[  199] 


VTalks  About   Washington 

dulity  that  he  could  not  bring  himself  to  punish  the 
offense  as  it  deserved. 

The  Cabinet  were  often  annoyed  at  the  obtrusion 
of  the  President's  taste  for  a  joke  at  what  seemed 
to  them  inopportune  moments  —  especially  Secretary 
Stanton,  whose  sense  of  humor  was  not  keen.  On  Sep- 
tember 22,  1862,  they  were  peremptorily  summoned 
to  a  meeting  at  the  White  House.  They  found  the 
President  reading  a  book,  from  which  he  barely  looked 
up  till  all  were  in  their  seats.  Then  he  said  :  "Gentle- 
men, did  you  ever  read  anything  from  Artemus  Ward  1 
Let  me  read  you  a  chapter  which  is  very  funny." 
When  the  reading  was  finished,  he  laughed  heartily, 
looking  around  the  circle  for  a  response,  but  nobody 
even  smiled ;  if  any  countenance  revealed  anything, 
it  was  irritation.  "Well,"  said  he,  "let's  have  another 
chapter;"  and  he  suited  action  to  word.  Finding 
his  listeners  no  more  sympathetic  than  before,  he 
threw  the  book  down  with  a  deep  sigh  and  exclaimed  : 
"Gentlemen,  why  don't  you  laugh.?  With  the  fearful 
strain  that  is  on  me  night  and  day,  if  I  did  not  laugh 
I  should  die,  and  you  need  this  medicine  as  much  as  I 
do."  With  that,  he  ran  his  hand  down  into  his  tall 
hat,  which  sat  on  the  table  near  him,  and  drew  forth 
a  sheet  of  paper,  from  which  he  read  aloud,  with  the 
most  impressive  emphasis,  the  first  draft  of  the  Eman- 

[  200  ] 


"  The    Spirit   of  Great   Events " 

cipation  Proclamation.  "If  any  of  you  have  any 
suggestions  to  make  as  to  the  form  of  this  paper  or  its 
composition,"  said  he,  "I  shall  be  glad  to  hear  them. 
But"  —  and  the  deliberateness  with  which  he  pro- 
nounced the  next  words  left  no  doubt  that  the  die  had 
already  been  cast  —  "this  paper  is  to  issue!" 

The  Lincolns  brought  two  young  children  with  them 
into  the  White  House,  both  boys.  Of  the  elder,  Willie, 
we  hear  little,  except  that  he  died  there,  and  that  his 
loss  added  one  more  to  the  many  lines  which  the  war 
had  worn  into  the  brow  of  his  father.  The  younger 
boy,  "Tad,"  is  better  known  to  the  public  through 
the  exploitation  of  his  juvenile  pranks  by  the  news- 
papers and  his  appearance  in  some  of  the  President's 
portraits.  Many  stories  are  told  of  his  fondness  for 
bringing  ragged  urchins  from  the  streets  into  the 
kitchen  and  feeding  them,  to  the  sore  distress  of  the 
cook  and  sometimes  to  the  disturbance  of  the  domestic 
routine  in  other  ways ;  but  for  whatever  he  wished  to 
do  in  the  charitable  line  he  found  his  father  a  faithful 
ally.  There  is  a  pretty  tale  of  his  having  espied  in 
the  lower  corridor  of  the  White  House,  one  very  rainy 
day,  a  young  man  and  woman,  rather  shabbily  dressed, 
who  seemed  depressed  in  spirits  and  anxious  to  consult 
with  some  one.  Tad  called  his  father's  attention  to 
them,  and  the  President  went  up  and  asked  them  what 

[201  ] 


Walks   About    Washington 

they  wished.  His  sympathetic  manner  loosed  their 
tongues  and  they  told  him  their  story. 

It  appeared  that  the  girl  was  from  Virginia  and 
had  run  away  from  home  to  marry  her  lover,  an  honor- 
ably discharged  soldier  from  Indiana.  They  had  met 
by  arrangement  in  Washington,  but  they  were  strangers 
there  and  very  unsophisticated,  and  had  little  money 
to  pay  a  minister  or  spend  on  hotel  accommodations ; 
so  they  had  been  wandering  about  the  city  for  hours, 
not  knowing  where  to  go,  and  had  taken  refuge  in  the 
White  House  from  the  storm.  They  had  no  idea  that 
they  were  talking  to  the  President  till  he  made  himself 
known.  With  characteristic  directness,  he  sent  for 
a  clergyman  of  his  acquaintance  and  had  the  nuptial 
knot  tied  in  his  presence.  Then  he  invited  bride 
and  groom  to  remain  as  his  guests  till  the  next  day, 
when  the  weather  cleared  and  they  went  their  way 
rejoicing. 

Although  Mrs.  Lincoln  was  the  titular  head  of  the 
President's  household,  the  woman  recognized  as  the 
social  leader  of  the  administration  was  Kate  Chase, 
daughter  of  the  Secretary  of  the  Treasury.  She  was 
handsome,  accomplished,  and,  after  her  marriage 
with  William  Sprague,  the  young  War  Governor  of 
Rhode  Island,  rich  as  well.  Mrs.  Lincoln  never  Hked 
her,  but  the  President's  gift  for  peacemaking  came  into 

[  202  ] 


"  The   Spirit:   of  Great   Events'''' 

action  here,  and  there  was  no  public  display  of  the 
coolness  of  feeling  between  them.  Mrs.  Sprague  had 
a  strong  taste  for  politics,  and  her  chief  ambition  was 
to  see  her  father  President ;  but  Lincoln  cut  off  that 
chance  at  the  critical  moment  by  making  him  Chief 
Justice  of  the  Supreme  Court.  Among  the  young 
and  rising  Congressmen  with  whom  Mrs.  Sprague 
was  brought  into  contact  during  this  period  was  Roscoe 
Conkling,  a  Representative  from  New  York,  who  later 
became  a  Senator.  He  was  the  pink  of  elegance  in 
person  and  attire,  of  stately  and  somewhat  condescend- 
ing manners,  and  master  of  the  arts  of  verbal  expression. 
They  formed  a  firm  friendship  which  lasted  as  long  as 
both  lived.  Edgewood,  the  Chase  home  on  the 
northern  border  of  the  city,  was  for  many  years  one  of 
the  show  places  of  Washington,  and  after  Chase's 
death  Conkling  procured  from  Congress  an  act  exempt- 
ing it  from  taxation  as  a  tribute  to  the  public  services 
of  its  former  owner.  Another  young  Representative 
of  whom  Mrs.  Sprague  saw  almost  as  much  as  of 
Conkling,  but  liked  less,  was  James  G.  Blaine  of  Maine, 
a  brilliant  orator  who  in  after  years  became  Conkling's 
most  powerful  adversary. 

A  warm  friend  of  Chase's  who  used  to  drop  in  at 
Edgewood  whenever  he  was  in  Washington  was  Horace* 
Greeley,  editor  of  the  New  York  Tribune.     He  was  a 

[203  ] 


Walks  About    Washington 

quaint  character,  who  wore  his  clothes  awry  and  his 
hair  long  and  always  tousled.  His  face  he  kept  clean 
shaven,  but  raised  a  heavy  blond  beard  under  his 
chin  and  jaws;  and  this,  with  his  ruddy  cheeks,  blue 
eyes,  beaming  spectacles,  and  generally  bland  aspect, 
made  him  look  like  the  typical  back-country  farmer 
of  theatrical  tradition.  He  accentuated  the  peculiar- 
ities of  his  appearance  by  affecting  a  large  soft  hat  and 
not  spotless  white  overcoat,  the  pockets  of  the  latter 
habitually  bulging  with  newspapers.  His  handwriting 
was  as  unconventional  as  his  attire,  and  compositors 
in  the  Tribune  office  had  to  be  specially  trained  in 
deciphering  it,  for  Mr.  Greeley  was  often  unable  to 
read  it  himself  after  the  subject-matter  had  grown 
cold  in  his  mind. 

Greeley  was  an  anti-slavery  man,  but  not  an  ag- 
gressive abolitionist;  nevertheless  he  smiled  benig- 
nantly  upon  the  work  of  the  Hutchinson  family  and 
took  some  pains  to  introduce  them  in  Washington 
wherever  their  music  would  be  likely  to  meet  with  a 
cordial  reception.  The  Hutchinsons  were  a  Massa- 
chusetts family  of  sixteen  brothers  and  sisters,  nearly 
all  of  them  bearing  Bible  names  given  them  by  a  deeply 
religious  mother.  They  learned  as  children  to  lead 
the  singing  in  the  Baptist  church  attended  by  their 
parents,  and,  as  their  musical  fame  spread,  one  of  the 

[  204] 


The  ''Old  Capitol- 


'  5  /\    .  •  •   ♦   .•  •   *,• 


Mm^ 


"  The   Spirit   of  Great   Events'' 

brothers  developed  a  talent  as  a  versifier  and  began 
writing  songs  adapted  to  their  interpretation,  breath- 
ing an  earnest  spirit  of  patriotism  and  pleading  for 
human  freedom.  From  giving  concerts  in  their  native 
town  and  neighborhood,  they  gradually  essayed  more 
and  more  ambitious  ventures,  and  with  Greeley's  aid 
came  under  the  favorable  notice  of  the  administration. 
Lincoln,  realizing  the  appeal  their  homely  entertain- 
ments would  make  to  the  Union  volunteers,  gave  them 
a  roving  commission  to  visit  the  camps  of  the  Army 
of  the  Potomac  and  encouraged  them  to  take  in  the 
recruiting  stations  wherever  they  happened  to  be. 
They  mixed  fun  with  their  seriousness  in  such  propor- 
tions as  they  believed  would  please  all  classes  in  their 
audiences ;  and  in  their  way  they  did  as  much  to  keep 
the  soldiers  cheerful  as  Tom  Paine  had  done  fourscore 
years  before. 

So  accustomed  is  the  public  mind  to  associating 
Lincoln  and  Grant  as  coworkers  for  the  Union  cause 
that  few  persons  suspect  that  the  two  men  never  met 
till  the  Civil  War  was  three-fourths  over.  Then, 
Congress  having  revived  the  grade  of  Lieutenant- 
general  of  the  Army,  Grant  was  ordered  to  Washing- 
ton to  receive  his  promotion.  Arriving  early  in  March, 
1864,  he  went  at  once  to  the  White  House,  where  the 
President  happened  to  be  holding  a  reception  in  the 

[205  ] 


Walks   About    Washington 

east  room.  He  held  back  till  most  of  the  people  had 
passed,  when  Lincoln,  recognizing  him  from  his  por- 
traits, turned  to  him  with  hand  outstretched,  saying : 
"This  is  General  Grant,  is  it  not?" 

"It  is,  Mr.  President,"  answered  Grant.  And  with 
this  self-introduction,  fittingly  simple,  the  two  great 
figures  of  the  war  faced  each  other  for  the  first  time. 


[206] 


CHAPTER  VIII 
NEW  FACES   IN  OLD   PLACES 

ALTHOUGH  constantly  urged  to  take  precautions 
for  his  own  safety,  Lincoln  never  did.  He  used 
to  walk  about  the  streets  as  freely  as  any  ordinary 
citizen ;  and  night  after  night,  during  the  darkest 
period  of  the  war,  he  would  stroll  across  to  Secretary 
Stanton's  office  to  talk  over  the  latest  news  from  the 
front.  Stanton's  remonstrances  he  would  dismiss  with 
a  weary  smile,  protesting  that,  as  far  as  he  was  aware, 
he  had  not  an  enemy  in  the  world,  but  if  he  had,  any- 
body who  wished  to  kill  him  had  a  hundred  chances 
every  day  —  so,  why  be  uneasy  ?  His  second  inaugural 
address  was  shorter  than  the  first ;  he  wrote  it  about 
midnight  of  the  third  of  March,  seated  in  an  armchair 
where  he  was  resting  after  a  hard  day's  work,  and  hold- 
ing the  cardboard  sheets  in  his  lap.  Its  concluding 
words  were  as  memorable  as  those  of  four  years  before  : 
"With  malice  toward  none,  with  charity  for  all,  let 
us  go  forward  with  the  work  we  have  to  do  :  to  bind  up 
the  nation's  wounds,  to  care  for  him  who  has  borne  the 

[207] 


Walks  About    Washington 

battle  and  for  his  widow  and  his  orphan,  and  to  do  all 
things  which  may  achieve  and  cherish  a  just  and  lasting 
peace  among  ourselves  and  with  all  nations." 

Early  on  the  fourth,  he  went  to  the  Capitol  quietly 
and  devoted  the  remaining  hours  of  the  morning  to 
reading  and  signing  bills.  The  procession  which 
had  been  arranged  to  escort  him  was  formed  at  the 
White  House,  with  the  President's  carriage  at  its  head, 
occupied  by  Mrs.  Lincoln  and  Senators  Harlan  and 
Anthony.  A  platoon  of  marshals  pioneered  it,  and  a 
detachment  of  the  Union  Light  Guard  surrounded  it. 
The  crowd,  recognizing  the  White  House  coachman  on 
its  box,  but  not  seeing  distinctly  who  sat  behind, 
cheered  it  all  along  the  line  under  the  supposition  that 
it  held  the  President.  Two  companies  of  colored  troops 
and  a  lodge  of  colored  Odd  Fellows  were  among  the 
marchers,  this  being  the  first  time  that  negroes  ever 
took  part  in  an  inaugural  pageant  except  in  some 
servile  capacity. 

We  have  already  seen  how  Washington  received  the 
news  of  the  final  triumph  of  the  Federal  arms,  and 
how  Lincoln  fell  in  the  midst  of  the  general  rejoicing. 
Many  readers  of  his  inaugural  address  of  that  year 
have  since  professed  to  discern  between  its  written 
lines  a  veiled  foreboding  of  the  end.  Certain  it  is  that 
he   was    an   habitual   dreamer,    and    that   one   dream, 

[208  ] 


New   Faces   in    Old  Places 

which  came  to  him  on  the  night  before  Fort  Sumter 
was  bombarded,  was  repeated  on  the  eve  of  the  first 
battle  of  Bull  Run,  and  just  before  other  important 
engagements.  As  he  described  it,  he  seemed  to  be  on 
the  water  in  an  unfamiliar  boat,  "moving  rapidly 
toward  a  dark,  indefinite  shore."  The  last  recurrence 
of  the  dream  was  in  the  early  morning  hours  of  April 
14,  1865.  We  shall  never  know,  now,  whether  it  was 
this  or  some  other  portent  that  caused  him  to  say  to 
a  trusted  companion,  not  long  before  his  death  :  "  I 
don't  think  I  shall  live  to  see  the  end  of  my  term. 
I  try  to  shake  off  the  vision,  but  it  still  keeps  haunting 
me."  He  had  received  several  threatening  letters, 
which  he  kept  in  a  separate  file  labeled:  "Letters  on 
Assassination."  After  his  death  there  was  found 
among  these  a  note  about  the  very  plot  in  which  Booth 
was  the  chief  actor. 

Fate  plays  strange  tricks.  For  a  few  hours  that 
spring,  one  friend  in  Washington  unconsciously  held 
Lincoln's  life  in  his  hand.  Harriet  Riddle,  since  better 
known  as  Mrs.  Davis,  the  novelist,  was  a  pupil  at  a 
local  convent  school.  Shortly  before  the  tragedy  at 
Ford's  Theater,  a  teacher  who  had  been  on  a  brief 
visit  to  a  Southern  town  returned,  apparently  labor- 
ing under  some  terrible  excitement  which  she  was  try- 
ing to  suppress.     At   the  session  of  her  class   imme- 

[  209] 


Walks  About    Washington 

diately  preceding  their  separation  for  Good  Friday, 
she  suddenly  fell  upon  her  knees,  bade  them  all  join 
her  in  prayer,  and  poured  forth,  in  a  voice  and  manner 
so  agonizing  that  the  children  were  thrilled  with  a 
nameless  horror,  an  hysterical  appeal  for  divine  mercy 
on  the  souls  who  were  soon  to  be  called  before  their 
Maker  without  warning. 

Harriet,  who  was  an  impressionable  child,  could 
hardly  contain  herself  till  she  reached  home  and 
sought  her  father,  to  whom  she  attempted  to  relate  the 
afternoon's  occurrence.  He  was  the  District-attorney, 
and  an  intimate  of  the  President's,  and  was  so  im- 
mersed in  the  cares  of  office  that  he  put  her  off  till  he 
should  have  more  leisure.  When  she  was  awakened 
on  Good  Friday  night  by  the  noise  of  citizens  and 
soldiers  hurrying  through  the  streets  and  calling  out 
the  news  of  the  assassination,  she  uttered  an  exclama- 
tion which  caught  her  father's  attention,  and  then  he 
listened  to  the  tale  which  he  had  once  waved  aside. 
"Why  did  you  not  tell  me  this  before  ?"  he  demanded. 
It  was  then  too  late  to  do  more  than  collect  such  evi- 
dence as  he  might  from  the  pupils  to  aid  the  detectives  ; 
but  the  teacher  who  had  uttered  that  awful  prayer  had 
fled  and  could  never  be  traced.  No  one  could  longer 
doubt  her  guilty  knowledge  of  the  plot,  probably 
acquired  during  her  visit  in  the  South. 

[  210] 


New   Faces   in    Old  Places 

The  oath  with  which  Vice-president  Johnson  took 
upon  himself  the  obHgations  of  the  Presidency  was 
administered  to  him  at  his  rooms  in  the  Kirkwood 
House,  a  hostelry  on  the  Pennsylvania  Avenue  corner 
now  occupied  by  the  Hotel  Raleigh.  Of  his  adminis- 
tration, the  most  broadly  interesting  incident  was 
the  impeachment  trial  described  in  an  earlier  chapter ; 
and  in  our  reflections  on  how  history  is  shaped,  another 
personal  anecdote  seems  worthy  of  a  place.  Its  hero- 
ine was  Miss  Vinnie  Ream,  the  sculptor,  who  later 
became  Mrs.  Hoxie. 

As  his  trial  drew  near  its  close,  and  Johnson's  friends 
and  enemies  were  able  to  figure  out  pretty  accurately 
how  the  Senate  was  going  to  divide,  it  became  plain 
that  the  issue  would  hang  on  a  single  vote.  If  all  the 
Senators  counted  against  the  President  stood  firm,  he 
would  be  convicted,  thirty-six  to  eighteen ;  but  Sec- 
retary Stanton  insisted  that  Ross  of  Kansas  was  pre- 
paring to  go  over  from  the  majority  to  the  minority. 
Ross  was  occupying  a  room  in  the  same  house  with 
Miss  Ream  on  Capitol  Hill,  and  General  Daniel  E. 
Sickles,  who  was  acquainted  with  him,  was  deputed  to 
see  him  on  the  night  before  the  roll-call  and  try  to  hold 
him  fast  against  the  President.  Miss  Ream  hap- 
pened to  meet  the  General  at  the  door,  ushered  him 
into  the  parlor  but  refused  to  let  him  see  the  Senator, 

[211] 


Walks   About    Washington 

and  held  him  at  bay  till  dawn  the  following  morning, 
when  he  gave  up  the  effort  as  fruitless  and  went  home. 
If  she  had  weakened  for  a  moment,  there  is  no  telling 
what  might  have  happened,  for  Sickles  was  in  a  posi- 
tion to  have  brought  very  heavy  pressure  to  bear  upon 
Ross.  The  roll-call  showed  thirty-five  for  convic- 
tion to  nineteen  against  —  less  than  the  two-thirds 
required  to  convict ;  and  it  was  Ross's  vote  that  saved 
Johnson. 

At  the  inauguration  of  Grant,  the  relations  between 
him  and  the  retiring  President  were  so  strained,  owing 
to  the  recent  struggle  at  the  War  Department,  that 
Johnson  refused  to  attend  the  ceremonies  unless  it 
could  be  arranged  that  he  and  Grant  should  ride  in 
separate  carriages.  General  Rawlins  therefore  acted 
as  escort  to  Grant  and  Vice-president  Colfax.  Grant 
was  not  much  of  a  speaker,  but  the  delivery  of  his 
inaugural  address  is  remembered  for  a  pretty  incident. 
His  little  daughter  Nellie,  confused  by  the  continuous 
bustle  all  about  her,  obeyed  on  the  platform  the  same 
childish  impulse  which  moved  her  in  any  exigency  at 
home,  and,  running  to  his  side,  nestled  against  him, 
clasping  one  of  his  hands  in  both  of  hers  and  holding  it 
all  the  time  he  was  speaking.  At  the  ball  that  evening, 
access  to  the  supper-room  and  to  the  cloak-room  was 
by  the   same  door,   which   caused   a  blockade  in  the 

[  212  ] 


New   Faces   in    Old  Places 

passage.  The  servants  in  charge  of  the  wraps  became 
hopelessly  demoralized,  with  the  result  that  Horace 
Greeley  had  to  wait  two  hours  to  recover  his  white 
overcoat  and  lost  his  hat  entirely.  The  torrent  of 
lurid  expletives  he  let  loose  during  his  ordeal  shared 
space  and  importance,  in  the  next  day's  newspapers, 
with  the  thirty-five  thousand  dollars'  worth  of  dia- 
monds worn  by  Mrs.  John  Morrissey,  wife  of  the  prize- 
fighter. 

Grant's  second  inauguration  began  inauspiciously, 
his  aged  father  falling  down  a  flight  of  stairs  at  the 
Capitol  and  suffering  injuries  which  finally  caused  his 
death.  The  day  was  stormy,  and  the  evening  the 
coldest  known  in  Washington  for  years.  Unfortu- 
nately, the  only  place  where  the  ball  could  be  held 
was  an  improvised  wooden  building,  through  the  crevices 
of  which  the  icy  wind  blew  a  gale ;  and,  to  complete 
everybody's  misery,  the  heating  apparatus  broke 
down,  so  that  many  of  the  ladies  who  had  come  in 
conventional  toilets  had  to  protect  their  shoulders  with 
fur  mantillas,  while  their  escorts  put  on  overcoats. 
The  President  was  so  cold  that  he  forgot  the  figures 
in  the  state  quadrille  which  he  was  to  lead,  and  was 
obliged  to  depend  on  General  Sherman  to  push  him 
through  them.  The  supper  was  ruined,  the  meats  and 
salads   competing   in   temperature   with   the   ices ;    all 

[  213  ] 


Walks  About    Washington 

that  could  be  saved  was  the  coffee,  which  was  kept 
hot  over  alcohol  lamps.  The  breath  of  the  members 
of  the  band  congealed  in  their  instruments,  and  several 
hundred  canaries  which  were  to  sing  in  the  intervals 
between  band  pieces  shriveled  into  little  downy  balls 
on  the  bottoms  of  their  cages  and  uttered  not  a  trill. 

The  key-note  of  Grant's  administration  on  its  politi- 
cal side  was  his  steadfast  faith  that  any  friend  of  his 
was  capable  of  filling  any  office  in  his  gift.  He  named 
Alexander  T.  Stewart,  the  New  York  dry-goods  mer- 
chant, for  Secretary  of  the  Treasury,  but  had  to  let 
him  resign  on  account  of  technical  objections  raised 
in  the  Senate.  Wendell  Phillips  having  come  to  his 
defense  at  a  hostile  mass-meeting  in  Boston,  Grant 
wished  to  make  him  Minister  to  England,  but  the 
offer  was  declined  because  Mrs.  Phillips  would  not 
be  able  to  go  abroad  at  that  time.  Caleb  Gushing 
of  Massachusetts,  though  a  stanch  Democrat  before 
the  war,  had  become  an  "administration  man"  as 
soon  as  the  Union  was  threatened,  and  thereby  aroused 
the  admiration  of  Grant,  who  named  him  for  Chief 
Justice  after  Chase's  death ;  but  the  same  political 
independence  which  so  won  Grant  had  incensed  a 
number  of  Senators,  who  caused  the  rejection  of  the 
nomination. 

Later,  however.  Grant  succeeded  in  sending  Gushing 

[214] 


New   Faces  in    Old  Places 

as  Minister  to  Spain.  Gushing  was  a  man  full  of  pecu- 
liarities, which  strengthened  with  his  years.  At  an 
early  age  he  discarded  the  umbrella  as  a  nuisance  and 
braved  storms  unprotected.  Naturally  his  hats  suf- 
fered. At  the  time  he  received  his  billet  for  Spain, 
he  was  wearing  one  of  the  chimney-pot  variety,  which, 
from  its  appearance,  he  must  have  bought  many  years 
before.  The  nap  was  a  good  deal  worn,  there  was  a 
slight  bulge  in  the  top,  and,  thanks  to  the  squareness 
of  his  head,  he  could  wear  it  with  either  side  in  front. 
When  some  one  suggested  that  he  had  better  buy  a 
new  hat  before  presenting  himself  at  the  Spanish  court, 
he  considered  the  question  solemnly,  turning  the  old 
hat  around  and  examining  it  with  care  before  answer- 
ing:  "No,  I  think  I  shall  wait  and  see  what  the  fash- 
ions are  in  Madrid."  Though  ready  to  spend  his 
money  freely  for  any  public  purpose,  in  private  indul- 
gences the  frugal  notions  inherited  from  his  New 
England  ancestry  came  to  the  front.  Hardly  anybody 
ever  saw  him  light  a  fresh  cigar,  but  he  used  to  carry 
about  in  his  pocket  a  case  packed  with  partly  con- 
sumed stumps,  to  one  of  which  he  would  help  himself 
when  he  wished  a  smoke,  only  to  let  it  die  again  as 
soon  as  he  had  become  interested  in  talking. 

It  was   because  of  his   liking  for  both    Blaine   and 
Conkling   that   Grant   strove,    as   his   last   act   in   the 

[2ISl 


Walks  About   Washington 

White  House,  to  reconcile  the  two  men,  who  were 
intensely  hostile  to  each  other.  Their  quarrel  had 
grown  out  of  a  passage  in  debate  when  Conkling  had 
made  some  very  sarcastic  comments  on  Blaine.  The 
latter  retorted  in  kind.  "The  contempt  of  that  large- 
minded  gentleman,"  said  he,  glancing  toward  Conk- 
ling, "is  so  wilting,  his  haughty  disdain,  his  grandilo- 
quent swell,  his  majestic,  supereminent,  overpowering, 
turkey-gobbler  strut  have  been  so  crushing  to  myself 
and  all  the  members  of  this  House,  that  I  know  it  was 
an  act  of  temerity  for  me  to  venture  upon  a  contro- 
versy with  him."  Referring  to  a  recent  newspaper 
article  in  which  Conkling  had  been  likened  to  the  late 
Henry  Winter  Davis,  Blaine  went  on  :  "The  gentleman 
took  it  seriously,  and  it  has  given  his  strut  additional 
pomposity.  The  resemblance  is  great.  It  is  strik- 
ing. Hyperion  to  a  satyr,  Thersites  to  Hercules,  mud 
to  marble,  a  dunghill  to  a  diamond,  a  singed  cat  to  a 
Bengal  tiger,  a  whining  puppy  to  a  roaring  lion!" 

Conkling  never  forgave  this  attack.  It  seems  like 
a  small  thing  to  change  the  whole  current  of  a  nation's 
history,  but  it  probably  cost  Blaine  the  Presidency; 
for  in  1884  the  disaffection  of  the  Republicans  in 
Conkling's  old  home  in  central  New  York  gave  the  State 
to  Cleveland.  President  Grant's  effort  to  bring  the 
foes  together  failed  because  Blaine,  though  ready  to 

[216] 


New   Faces  in    Old  Places 

make  any  ordinary  concessions,  balked  when  Conk- 
ling  demanded  that  he  should  confess  his  "mud  to 
marble"  speech  to  have  been  "unqualifiedly  and  mali- 
ciously false." 

In  1874,  Miss  Nellie  Grant  was  married  to  Algernon 
Sartoris,  a  British  subject.  She  was  her  father's  pet. 
At  her  wedding,  he  stood  beside  his  wife  to  receive  the 
guests,  his  face  wearing  a  sphinx-like  calm,  though 
every  one  knew  how  he  would  feel  the  parting  soon  to 
follow.  His  forced  composure  continued  till  Nellie 
had  left  the  house  with  her  husband,  and  then  he  dis- 
appeared. An  old  friend,  seeking  him  up-stairs,  tapped 
at  his  chamber  door,  and,  as  there  was  no  response, 
pushed  it  slightly  ajar  and  looked  in.  There,  on  the 
bed,  face  downward,  his  eyes  buried  in  his  hands  and 
his  whole  frame  shaken  with  grief,  lay  the  great  soldier, 
sobbing  like  a   child. 

Throughout  the  Grant  administration,  the  social 
arbiter  for  Washington  was  Mrs.  Hamilton  Fish,  wife 
of  the  Secretary  of  State.  She  was  a  woman  of  the 
world,  broad-minded  and  efficient,  but  the  White  House 
was  not  a  very  ceremonious  place  in  that  era.  When 
the  new  Danish  Minister  called,  for  instance,  in  full 
regalia,  to  present  his  credentials,  he  found  no  one 
prepared  to  receive  him,  even  the  negro  boy  who  met 
him  at  the  door  having  to  hurry  into  a  coat  before  usher- 

[217] 


Walks  About    Washington 

ing  him  In.  Persons  who  attended  the  state  dinners 
say  that  Grant  often  turned  down  his  wine-glasses. 
It  was,  as  far  as  I  have  ever  heard,  the  first  instance  of 
a  President's  doing  this ;  and  It  paved  the  way  for 
the  reign  of  cold  water  which  came  In  with  the  next 
President,  Rutherford  B.  Hayes. 

Hayes  entered  office  under  cloudy  auspices.  His 
competitor  for  the  Presidency  was  Samuel  J.  Tllden, 
a  powerful  Democratic  leader.  In  some  of  the  South- 
ern States  which  were  still  in  the  throes  of  reconstruc- 
tion, United  States  troops  were  doing  police  duty,  the 
Governors  were  appointees  of  a  Republican  President, 
and  the  election  machinery  was  In  the  hands  of  Repub- 
lican office-holders,  though  the  bulk  of  the  white  voting 
population  was  Democratic.  In  these  States  the  offi- 
cial canvassers  had  reported  the  Republican  electors 
chosen,  the  electors  had  cast  their  ballots  for  Hayes, 
and  the  Governors  had  signed  and  forwarded  their 
certificates  accordingly,  in  defiance  of  Democratic 
protests  that  the  returns  were  fictitious.  Without 
these  States,  the  Democratic  candidate  had  one  hun- 
dred and  eighty-four  of  the  one  hundred  and  eighty- 
five  electoral  votes  necessary  to  a  choice,  while  the 
Republican  candidate  could  win  only  with  their  aid ; 
so  a  single  electoral  vote  would  tip  the  scale  either 
way.     The  duty  of  opening  the  certificates   and  an- 

[218] 


St.  Paul's,  the  Oldest  Church  in  the  District 


• ' '     <     ■>      >  '^  1 J    >     .  J    >     ,  J 


;■:"■( 


New   Faces   in    Old  Places 

nouncing  the  results  devolved  upon  the  President  of 
the  Senate,  a  strong  Republican. 

The  Democrats  made  so  serious  charges  of  falsifi- 
cation of  the  records  that  the  whole  country  became 
much  excited,  and  fears  were  entertained  in  Congress 
that  another  civil  war  might  be  impending.  In  the 
midst  of  the  turmoil,  a  joint  committee  of  both  cham- 
bers worked  out  a  plan  for  a  bi-partisan  Electoral 
Commission,  to  consist  of  five  Senators,  five  Represen- 
tatives, and  five  Justices  of  the  Supreme  Court,  before 
whom  all  the  questions  at  issue  should  be  argued  by 
counsel,  and  whose  decisions  should  place  the  result 
beyond  immediate  appeal.  The  Commission,  as  made 
up,  contained  eight  Republicans  and  seven  Democrats, 
and  its  decisions  were  always  given  by  a  vote  of  eight 
to  seven.  It  held  its  sessions  in  the  room  now  occupied 
by  the  Supreme  Court,  where  it  began  its  work  on 
February  i,  1877,  and  at  the  end  of  a  month  rendered 
its  last  ruling,  which  gave  the  Presidency  to  Mr. 
Hayes. 

As  the  fourth  of  March  was  to  fall  on  Sunday, 
President  Grant  had  Hayes  meet  Chief  Justice  Waite 
in  the  red  parlor  of  the  White  House  on  the  evening  of 
the  third  and  take  the  oath  privately.  The  inaugural 
ball  was  omitted  because  the  Electoral  Commission 
had  finished  its  work  too  late  to  enable  preparations 

[  219] 


Walks   About    Washington 

to  be  made.  President  Hayes  was  not  nearly  so  con- 
spicuous a  figure  during  the  following  four  years  as 
his  wife,  who  was  a  woman  of  very  positive  convictions, 
especially  on  the  subject  of  alcoholic  stimulants.  At 
her  instance,  wines  were  banished  from  the  White  House 
table,  the  only  exception  occurring  when  the  Grand 
Dukes  Alexis  and  Constantin  of  Russia  visited  Wash- 
ington. It  is  said  to  have  been  some  incident  at  the 
entertainment  given  in  their  honor  which  fixed  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Hayes  definitely  in  the  determination  not  to  de- 
part again  from  the  rule  of  teetotalism. 

The  newspapers  poked  a  good  deal  of  innocent  fun 
at  the  Hayes  parties  on  the  score  that,  though  the  ban 
was  never  lifted  from  the  ordinary  intoxicants  drunk 
from  glasses,  there  was  always  plenty  of  strong  Roman 
punch  served  in  orange-skins.  The  nickname  which 
presently  fastened  itself  to  this  deceptive  course  was 
the  "life-saving  station."  In  his  diary,  however,  Mr. 
Hayes  has  left  us  the  statement:  "The  joke  of  the 
Roman  punch  oranges  was  not  on  us,  but  on  the  drink- 
ing people.  My  orders  were  to  flavor  them  rather 
strongly  with  the  same  flavor  that  is  found  in  Jamaica 
rum.  This  took !  It  was  refreshing  to  hear  the 
drinkers  say,  with  a  smack  of  their  lips,  'Would  they 
were  hot!'"  I  am  bound  to  add  that,  in  spite  of  the 
good  man's  enjoyment  of  his  ruse,  the  suspicion  still 

[  220  ] 


New   Faces   in    Old  Places 

survives  that  his  steward  used  to  put  a  private  and 
particular  interpretation  on  his  orders. 

Although  Mr.  Hayes  was  not  a  member  of  any 
church,  his  wife  was  an  ardent  Methodist,  and  one 
marked  feature  of  their  life  in  Washington  was  the 
Sunday  evening  sociables  at  the  White  House,  when 
Cabinet  officers  and  other  dignitaries  would  come  in 
and  pass  a  couple  of  hours  singing  hymns,  with  light 
conversation  between.  Among  the  most  interested 
attendants  at  these  gatherings  was  General  Sherman, 
who  used  to  join  vigorously  in  the  singing  —  or  try  to. 
Another,  who  was  destined  to  play  an  independent 
part  in  history  a  few  years  afterward,  was  a  clever 
young  Congressman  from  Ohio  named  William  McKin- 
ley.  Junior.  He  had  been  a  volunteer  soldier  in  Hayes's 
regiment  early  in  the  war,  and  they  had  grown  to  be 
fast  friends.  At  one  of  the  first  of  the  secular  recep- 
tions during  the  Hayes  regime,  the  guest  of  honor  was 
a  budding  celebrity.  Queen  Liliuokalani  of  Hawaii. 
She  labored  under  the  handicap  of  knowing  no  Eng- 
lish, and  had  to  carry  on  most  of  her  conversation 
through   an  interpreter. 

President  Hayes  provoked  a  good  deal  of  criticism 
among  the  Southerners  in  Washington  by  appointing 
Frederick  Douglass,  the  negro  ex-slave  and  orator, 
United  States  Marshal  of  the  District,  for  the  office 

[  221  ] 


Walks  About    Washington 

had  up  to  that  time  carried  with  it  the  duties  of  a  sort 
of  majordomo  at  the  President's  receptions,  including 
the  presentation  of  the  guests.  A  visitor  to  Washing- 
ton about  these  days  who  did  not  attend  the  state 
receptions,  but  held  some  of  his  own  in  the  open  air, 
was  a  man  of  small  and  unimpressive  stature,  with 
black  hair  and  mustache  and  a  rather  good-natured 
face,  whose  portrait  appeared  repeatedly  in  the  illus- 
trated papers,  and  whose  name  carried  with  it  a  cer- 
tain terror  to  timid  souls  who  expected  to  see  him  launch 
a  social  revolution.  This  was  Dennis  Kearney,  who 
had  made  himself  notorious  by  his  speeches  in  the 
sand-lots  of  San  Francisco,  declaring  that  "the  Chinese 
must  go,"  and  denouncing  every  one,  regardless  of 
race,  who  had  been  thrifty  enough  to  accumulate  any 
of  this  world's  goods.  His  remarkable  coinage  of  words 
and  generally  unique  English  gave  currency  to  a  mul- 
titude of  epigrammatic  phrases,  which  for  several 
years   were   known   as    "Kearneyisms." 

All  through  the  campaign  of  1880  a  great  deal  was 
made  of  the  sayings  and  doings  of  "Grandma  Gar- 
field," the  mother  of  the  Republican  candidate  :  an 
old  lady  of  a  type  rarely  seen  now,  who  was  not  ashamed 
of  her  years,  wore  her  cap  and  spectacles  as  badges  of 
distinction,  and  never  forgot  that,  however  great  he 
might  have  grown,  her  son  was  still  her  son.     Nor  did 

[  222  ] 


New   Faces   in    Old  Places 

he  forget  it ;  and  on  the  east  portico  of  the  Capitol, 
with  his  assent  to  the  constitutional  oath  barely  off 
his  lips,  his  first  act  as  President  was  to  bend  down  and 
kiss  her.  The  inauguration  was  notable,  too,  for  the 
important  part  taken  in  the  parade  by  the  defeated 
competitor  for  the  Presidency,  General  Winfield  S. 
Hancock.  He  was  a  splendid-looking  man  and  a 
superb  horseman,  and  in  his  uniform  as  a  Major- 
general  was  the  most  imposing  object  in  the  procession. 
The  spectators,  delighted  with  his  sportsmanlike  spirit, 
paid  him  as  hearty  a  tribute  as  they  paid  the  President. 
A  few  weeks  after  the  inauguration,  a  fierce  quarrel 
broke  out  over  the  distribution  of  federal  patronage, 
splitting  the  Republican  party  into  two  factions.  The 
angry  irruptions  of  the  newspapers  on  both  sides, 
which  would  have  passed  with  any  normal  mind  for 
what  they  were  worth,  made  a  more  serious  impression 
on  that  of  Charles  J.  Guiteau,  a  degenerate  with  a 
craving  for  self-advertisement ;  and,  failing  in  his 
attempt  to  obtain  an  office  for  himself,  he  saw  in  the 
controversy  an  opportunity  to  pose  as  a  hero  by  re- 
moving its  cause.  Garfield,  as  a  graduate  of  Williams 
College,  had  arranged  to  attend  the  next  commence- 
ment, and  was  in  the  railway  station  on  the  second 
of  July,  1 88 1,  on  the  way  to  his  train,  when  he 
was   approached  by  Guiteau    from   behind    and  shot. 

[223  ] 


Walks  About    Washington 

He  lingered,  first  in  the  White  House  and  later  at 
Elberon,  New  Jersey,  whither  he  was  taken  after  the 
weather  became  too  sultry  in  Washington,  till  the  nine- 
teenth of  September.  The  assassin  was  brought  to 
trial  at  the  winter  term  of  the  Supreme  Court  of  the 
District,  convicted  of  murder,  and  hanged. 

On  the  evening  of  the  day  of  Garfield's  death,  the 
Vice-president,  Chester  A.  Arthur,  was  sworn  in  at 
his  home  in  New  York  City,  in  the  presence  of  his  son 
and  a  few  personal  friends,  including  Elihu  Root. 
A  more  formal  administration  of  the  oath  took  place 
in  the  Vice-president's  room  at  the  Capitol  in  Wash- 
ington three  days  later.  Chief  Justice  Waite  officiating, 
with  Associate  Justices  Harlan  and  Matthews,  General 
Grant,  and  several  Senators  and  Representatives  as 
witnesses.  After  signing  the  oath,  Arthur  read  a  brief 
address  and  returned  at  once  to  his  office. 

Arthur  was  a  widower,  and  his  only  daughter  was 
still  too  young  to  take  full  charge  of  his  household 
afi'airs,  so  his  sister,  Mrs.  McElroy,  presided  at  all  his 
social  functions.  He  was  very  fond  of  music,  and  the 
great  operatic  and  concert  stars  were  always  sure  of  a 
warm  welcome  from  him  when  they  passed  through 
Washington.  The  finest  of  his  dinners  was  that 
which  he  gave  for  Christine  Nilsson.  As  the  company 
rose  from  the  table  and  he  oflFered  his  arm  to  escort 

[  224] 


New   Faces   in    Old  Places 

her  back  to  the  east  room,  the  Marine  Band  in  the 
corridor,  responding  to  a  secret  signal,  began  playing 
one  of  her  favorite  airs,  and,  with  the  spontaneous 
delight  of  a  child,  she  fell  to  singing  it,  her  voice  soaring 
bird-like  above  the  instruments  as  she  walked.  This 
surprise  for  Miss  Nilsson  was  typical  of  the  graceful 
things  Arthur  was  fond  of  doing,  and  in  which  he  set 
the  pace  for  the  members  of  his  official  family.  Ex- 
president  Grant  and  his  wife,  on  their  return  from 
their  tour  of  the  world,  dropped  in  upon  Washington, 
as  it  chanced,  just  when  a  reception  was  about  to  be 
held  at  the  White  House.  Arthur  sent  his  carriage 
for  them.  Mrs.  Frelinghuysen,  wife  of  the  Secretary 
of  State,  was  on  that  occasion  filling  Mrs.  McElroy's 
accustomed  station  next  to  the  President  in  the  receiv- 
ing line ;  but  on  the  entrance  of  the  distinguished 
guests  she  withdrew,  gently  pressing  Mrs.  Grant  into 
her  place  as  hostess  of  the  evening. 

As  the  first  Democratic  President  since  the  war, 
Grover  Cleveland  of  New  York  found  a  hard  task 
laid  out  for  him.  He  realized  that  he  owed  his  election 
chiefly  to  the  reform  element  in  both  the  great  parties, 
yet  it  was  his  own  party  that  claimed  him,  and,  having 
been  out  of  power  for  a  quarter-century,  it  was  not 
over-modest  in  its  demands.  His  efforts  at  tariff 
reduction  stirred  the  protectionists  to  such  activity  in 

[225  ] 


Walks   About    Washington 

the  next  campaign  that  Benjamin  Harrison  of  Indiana, 
a  RepubHcan  and  a  grandson  of  "Old  Tippecanoe," 
was  elected  in  November,  1888.  When  he  entered 
office,  Cleveland  was  a  bachelor  forty-eight  years  old. 
In  June,  1886,  he  married  Miss  Frances  Folsom,  the 
daughter  of  a  former  law  partner  to  whom  he  had  been 
warmly  attached.  The  wedding  ceremony  was  per- 
formed in  the  White  House,  only  a  small  party  of 
friends  attending.  Mrs.  Cleveland,  who  was  young 
and  of  attractive  presence,  made  friends  for  herself 
on  every  side  and  did  much  to  soften  the  antagonisms 
which  her  husband's  course  in  oihce  necessarily  aroused. 
The  clerk  of  the  weather  seemed  to  have  been  stor- 
ing his  rain  for  weeks  in  order  to  let  it  all  out  upon 
Harrison's  inauguration,  and  the  street  pageant  was 
a  drenched  and  draggled  aflfair.  The  civilities  of  the 
outgoing  to  the  incoming  President  gave  the  day  its 
one  touch  of  cheerfulness.  Cleveland  sat  on  the  rear 
seat  of  the  open  landau  which  bore  them  to  the  Capitol, 
the  front  seat  being  occupied  by  Senators  Hoar  and 
Cockrell,  acting  as  a  committee  of  escort.  In  order 
to  enable  Harrison  to  lift  his  hat  to  the  people  who 
cheered  him  from  the  sidewalk,  Cleveland  raised  his 
own  umbrella  and  held  it  over  his  companion.  When 
Cockrell  undertook  to  do  the  same  for  Hoar,  his  um- 
brella broke.     Cleveland  at  once  borrowed  an  umbrella 

[226] 


New   Faces   in    Old  Places 

of  his  Secretary  of  the  Treasury  in  the  next  carriage, 
and,  when  Mr.  Hoar  demurred,  reassured  him  with  a 
laugh:  "Don't  be  alarmed,  Senator;  we're  honest, 
and  I'll  see  that  it  gets  back!"  As  they  drove  down 
the  Avenue,  most  of  the  applause,  naturally,  was  for 
the  President-elect ;  but  once  in  a  while  a  spectator 
would  shout,  "Good-by,  Grover!"  or  something  of 
the  sort,  and  Cleveland  would  return  the  greeting  with 
a  smile  and  a  nod.  So  much  kindly  feeling  was  mani- 
fested throughout  the  morning  that  Harrison,  who  was 
temperamentally  the  least  effusive  of  men,  was  deeply 
touched ;  and  he  could  not  forbear  referring  in  his 
inaugural  address  to  the  courtesy  he  had  received  at 
Cleveland's  hands,  adding  that  he  should  endeavor  to 
show  like  consideration  to  his  successor  four  years 
later. 

And  four  years  later  Providence  gave  him  the 
chance,  which  he  improved  as  far  as  in  him  lay.  In 
the  meantime  he  had  passed  through  many  sad  experi- 
ences. Factional  divisions,  almost  as  serious  as  those 
that  culminated  in  the  assassination  of  Garfield,  had 
broken  up  his  party.  His  Secretary  of  State,  Mr. 
Blaine,  had  parted  company  with  him  on  the  eve  of 
the  meeting  of  the  Republican  National  Convention 
of  1892,  become  his  rival  for  the  Presidential  nomina- 
tion, and  died  the  following  winter.     Two  of  Blaine's 

[  227] 


IValks  About    Washington 

sons  and  one  of  his  daughters  had  already  died.  Mr. 
Windom,  Secretary  of  the  Treasury,  had  fallen  dead 
at  a  public  banquet,  just  after  finishing  a  memorable 
speech  in  defense  of  the  administration.  General 
Tracy,  Secretary  of  the  Navy,  had  lost  his  wife  and 
daughter  in  a  fire  which  destroyed  their  Washington 
home.  The  wife  of  the  President's  secretary,  Mr. 
Halford,  had  died;  and  to  crown  his  load  of  sorrows, 
Mr.  Harrison  lost  his  own  wife  and  her  father  almost 
at  the  time  of  his  defeat  for  reelection. 

On  the  other  hand,  he  had  enjoyed  the  presence  in 
the  White  House  of  his  daughter,  Mrs.  McKee,  with 
her  two  children,  one  of  whom,  a  bright  little  boy  named 
in  his  honor,  was  his  special  favorite  and  playfellow 
out  of  office  hours.  The  south  garden  was  the  scene 
of  many  of  their  frolics,  which  recalled  the  legends 
about  John  Adams  and  his  juvenile  tyrant.  One  inci- 
dent will  never  be  forgotten  by  those  who  witnessed 
it.  "Baby  McKee,"  as  Benjamin  junior  was  com- 
monly called,  used  to  drive  a  goat  before  his  little 
wagon.  This  amusement  was  confined,  as  a  rule, 
to  occasions  when  the  President  could  be  near  at 
hand  to  watch  proceedings,  for  the  goat  was  an  erratic 
brute.  One  day  it  caught  the  President  napping 
and  started  at  full  gallop  for  an  open  gate.  Mr.  Harri- 
son,   suddenly    awakened    to    the    situation,    dashed 

[228  ] 


New   Faces   in    Old  Places 

after.  The  goat  succeeded  in  pulling  the  wagon 
through  the  narrow  aperture  without  a  collision,  but, 
once  in  the  street,  bolted  straight  for  a  trench  in  which 
workmen  were  laying  a  pipe.  By  a  succession  of 
mighty  leaps,  such  as  probably  no  dignitary  of  his 
rank  had  ever  made  before,  Mr.  Harrison  contrived 
to  get  in  front  of  the  animal,  seize  it  by  the  bit,  and 
swing  it  around  in  the  nick  of  time  to  prevent  its 
jumping  the  excavation  and  tumbling  wagon  and 
boy  into  the  mud  at  the  bottom.  The  President 
was  pufhng  hard  as  he  returned  triumphantly  to  the 
White  House,  dragging  the  reluctant  goat  by  the 
headstall,  under  a  running  fire  of  complaints  from  his 
grandson  for  spoiling  the  morning  ride. 

When  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Cleveland  came  back  in  1893, 
they  brought  with  them  their  infant  daughter  Ruth, 
and  open  gates  in  the  south  garden  of  the  White  House 
became  at  once  a  thing  of  the  past ;  for  the  garden 
was  the  child's  only  playground,  and  an  epidemic  of 
kidnapping  had  recently  broken  out.  For  further 
security,  and  in  order  to  have  one  place  where  his 
domestic  hours  would  be  free  from  business  interrup- 
tions, the  President  rented  the  small  estate  known  as 
Woodley,  in  one  of  the  northwestern  suburbs.  Here 
he  lived  during  the  greater  part  of  the  year,  driving  in 
daily  to  his  work  and  spending  a  night  in  Washington 

[  229] 


Walks  About   Washington 

now  and  then  if  necessary.  By  that  time  the  official 
encroachments  on  the  family  space  of  the  White  House 
had  reached  a  point  where  either  the  building  must  be 
enlarged  or  a  separate  dwelling  provided  for  the  Presi- 
dent. A  scheme  of  enlargement  had  been  broached 
in  Harrison's  term,  but  the  plans  drawn  under  Mrs. 
Harrison's  direction  changed  the  shape  of  the  old 
mansion  in  too  many  essential  features  to  win  the 
approval  of  the  architects  consulted,  and  the  matter 
was  dropped.  The  Clevelands,  by  living  at  Woodley, 
escaped  some  of  the  cramping  the  Harrisons  had 
suffered,  and  the  McKinleys,  who  came  in  next,  got 
along  pretty  well  because  they  had  no  children. 

As  Senator  La  Follette  once  said,  McKinley  never 
had  a  fair  chance  as  President  to  show  what  was  in 
him :  his  first  term  was  broken  into  by  the  Spanish 
War,  and  his  second  was  cut  off  almost  at  its  beginning 
by  assassination.  He  was  sweet-natured  and  a  born 
manager  of  men,  and  no  one  who  ever  filled  the  Presi- 
dential chair  left  behind  him  a  more  fragrant  memory. 
As  his  murder  occurred  in  Buffalo,  and  Czolgosz,  who 
killed  him,  was  tried  and  put  to  death  there,  the  epi- 
sode serves  our  present  purpose  only  in  leading  up  to 
the  accession  of  Theodore  Roosevelt  of  New  York,  the 
Vice-president,  who  was  recalled  from  a  summer 
vacation   in  the  mountains   to  take  the  head  of  the 

[  230] 


New   Faces  in    Old  Places 

state.  His  inauguration  was  of  the  simplest  sort,  at  the 
house  of  a  friend  in  Buffalo,  where  some  members  of  the 
McKinley  Cabinet  and  a  few  other  gentlemen  met  to 
witness  the  administration  of  the  oath. 

His  first  few  months  in  the  White  House  convinced 
the  new  President  that  something  must  be  done  with- 
out delay  to  relieve  the  building,  which  had  become  not 
only  inconvenient  but  dangerous.  For  several  years, 
when  repairs  had  been  found  necessary,  they  had  been 
made  by  temporary  patchwork,  with  little  reference 
to  their  effect  on  anything  else ;  not  a  few  of  the  floor 
timbers  subject  to  most  strain  were  badly  rotted,  and 
others  stood  in  so  perilous  relations  to  the  lighting 
apparatus  that  only  by  a  miracle  had  the  house  escaped 
destruction  by  fire.  Fortunately  Congress  had  begun 
to  show  some  interest  in  a  long-mooted  project  for 
bringing  the  city  back  to  the  plan  laid  out  by  L'Enfant ; 
and  a  generous  appropriation  was  procured  for  making 
over  the  White  House  to  resemble  as  nearly  as  prac- 
ticable the  President's  Palace  built  by  Hoban.  All 
the  latter  half  of  1902  was  given  to  this  work.  The 
office  was  moved  out  of  the  main  building  and  planted 
in  a  little  house  of  its  own  on  the  same  spot  where  Jef- 
ferson used  to  have  his  workroom,  at  the  extremity  of 
the  western  terrace.  The  eastern  terrace,  of  which 
nothing   but    the    buried    foundations    remained,    was 

[  231  ] 


Walks  About    Washington 

rebuilt,  and  so  arranged  as  to  afford  an  entrance  for 
guests  at  the  larger  receptions. 

Inside  of  the  main  house,  the  old  lines  were  kept 
intact  as  far  as  the  comfort  of  its  occupants  would 
permit,  though  the  restoration  did  work  some  changes. 
The  noble  east  room,  which  for  many  years  was  deco- 
rated in  the  style  of  the  saloon  of  a  river  steamboat, 
wears  now  the  air  of  simple  elegance  designed  for  it 
before  steamboats  were  invented ;  and  the  state 
dining-room  has  been  so  enlarged  that  future  Presi- 
dents will  not  be  forced,  on  especially  great  occasions, 
to  spread  their  tables  in  the  east  room  in  order  to  spare 
the  diners  the  annoyance  of  bumping  elbows.  Up- 
stairs the  changes  have  been  rather  of  function  than  of 
form.  The  room  which,  from  Grant's  day  to  Mc- 
Kinley's,  was  used  for  Cabinet  meetings,  and  where  our 
peace  protocol  with  Spain  was  signed,  is  now  a  library ; 
that  in  which  Lincoln  read  to  his  official  family  the 
first  draft  of  his  Emancipation  Proclamation  is  now  a 
bedroom,  and  a  like  fate  has  befallen  the  former 
library,  where  Cleveland  penned  his  Venezuela  message. 
The  old  lines  of  partition,  however,  are  all  there.  Logs 
still  blaze  and  crackle  in  the  fireplace  beside  which 
Jackson  puffed  his  corncob  pipe.  The  windows  through 
which  Lincoln  looked  over  at  the  Virginia  hills  have  not 
changed  even  the  shape  or  size  of  their  old-fashioned 

[  232  ] 


New   Faces   in    Old  Places 

panes.  The  places  where  our  first  royal  guest  slept, 
and  where  Garfield  passed  his  long  ordeal  of  suffering, 
remain  bedchambers. 

Mrs.  Roosevelt,  who  loved  the  White  House  and  had 
made  a  study  of  its  architectural  history,  personally 
supervised  every  stage  of  its  restoration.  When  the 
alterations  were  finished,  she  took  the  same  interest 
in  the  process  of  refurnishing,  so  that  the  final  product 
was,  as  nearly  as  modern  conditions  would  permit,  the 
White  House  of  a  century  ago.  The  removal  of  need- 
less obstructions  was  one  of  the  most  successful  ele- 
ments in  the  renovation,  as  it  made  possible  the  han- 
dling of  a  crowd  of  fifteen  hundred  or  two  thousand 
people  without  confusion.  Socially,  the  Roosevelt 
administration  was  in  every  way  the  most  brilliant 
Washington  has  ever  known.  Mrs.  Roosevelt  was  a 
perfect  hostess,  and  the  many-sided  President  drew 
about  him  the  leaders  in  every  line  of  thought  and 
action.  In  his  democracy  of  companionship  and  his 
forceful  way  of  doing  whatever  he  laid  his  hand  to, 
he  was  another  Jackson ;  in  his  attraction  for  men  of 
letters,  students  of  statecraft,  artists,  and  scientific 
workers,  he  revived  the  best  traditions  of  Jefferson. 

The  four  years  of  Taft  are  too  fresh  in  the  public 
memory  to  call  for  extended  mention.  Taft  was  forced 
to  have  his  inauguration  in  the  Senate    Chamber   on 

[233  ] 


Walks  About    Washington 

account  of  the  execrable  weather,  for  the  worst  blizzard 
prevailed  on  the  fourth  of  March,  1909,  that  had  visited 
Washington  for  ten  years.  The  railroads  leading  into 
the  city  were  blockaded,  so  that  many  passengers  who 
had  come  from  a  distance  to  attend  the  ceremony 
were  compelled  to  forsake  their  trains  a  mile  or  more 
from  their  destination  and  plow  their  own  way  in,  as  the 
sole  alternative  of  camping  in  the  cars  for  an  indefi- 
nite number  of  hours.  Only  by  the  utmost  diligence 
on  the  part  of  the  municipal  laborers  were  the  streets 
kept  in  condition  for  the  parade  to  pass,  and  most  of 
the  spectators'  stands  erected  on  the  sidewalks  were 
utterly  deserted.  Mr.  Roosevelt  having  announced, 
some  time  before,  his  intention  to  leave  for  New  York 
as  soon  as  he  had  seen  his  successor  sworn  in,  Mrs. 
Taft  made  the  drive  between  the  Capitol  and  the  White 
House  by  her  husband's  side. 

Woodrow  Wilson  of  New  Jersey,  the  next  President, 
signalized  his  advent  by  notifying  the  citizens  of  Wash- 
ington that  he  did  not  wish  any  inaugural  ball,  and 
the  preparations  already  under  way  were  abandoned. 
His  administration  is  still  writing  its  own  history. 


[234] 


St.  Johns,  "  the  President's  Church " 


CHAPTER  IX 
THE   REGION  'ROUND  ABOUT 

NO  American  city  has  suburbs  more  interesting  than 
Washington's.  Those  that  hold  first  rank, 
naturally,  are  on  the  Virginia  side  of  the  Potomac,  the 
region  most  redolent  of  the  memory  of  the  great 
patriot  whose  name  was  given  to  the  capital.  The 
Arlington  estate,  which  lies  nearest,  was  never  the 
home  of  George  Washington,  but  he  visited  it  often, 
for  it  belonged  by  inheritance  to  the  grandson  of  his 
wife  by  her  earlier  marriage ;  and  George  and  Martha 
were  so  pleased  with  it  that  they  built  a  little  summer- 
house  about  where  the  flagstaff  now  stands,  whence 
they  could  overlook  the  work  going  on  in  the  new 
federal  city  across  the  river.  Young  George  Custis, 
owner  of  the  place,  built  the  spacious  dwelling  sub- 
stantially as  we  now  find  it,  finishing  it  four  years 
after  Washington's  death.  He  left  the  property  to  his 
daughter  Mary,  who  in  1831  became  the  wife  of  Robert 
E.  Lee,  then  a  lieutenant  in  the  regular  army,  but  thirty 
years    later    commander-in-chief    of    the    Confederate 

[23s  1 


Walks   About    Washington 

forces.  Their  wedding  took  place  in  the  old  drawing- 
room,  where  visitors  now  register  their  names. 

Lee  had  just  reached  colonel's  rank  when  the  Civil 
War  broke  out.  He  was  opposed  to  secession,  but, 
faithful  to  the  traditions  of  State  sovereignty  in  which 
he  had  been  trained,  decided  that  it  was  his  duty  to 
sacrifice  all  other  ties  and  follow  the  fortunes  of  Vir- 
ginia. After  a  painful  interview  with  General  Scott, 
who  strove  vainly  to  shake  his  resolution,  he  wrote,  in 
the  library  across  the  hall  from  the  drawing-room,  his 
resignation  of  his  commission  in  the  United  States 
army.  Then,  accompanied  by  his  family,  he  set  out 
for  the  South,  never  to  return.  In  a  few  days  the 
Federal  troops  took  possession  of  the  estate  as  impor- 
tant to  the  protection  of  Washington.  Here  Mc- 
Clellan  worked  out  his  plans  for  the  reorganization  of 
the  Union  army  following  the  Bull  Run  disaster. 
A  few  years  afterward,  there  being  no  one  at  hand  to 
pay  the  war-tax  laid  on  the  land,  it  was  sold  under  the 
hammer,  and  the  Government  bid  it  in.  Before 
the  sale  had  been  definitely  ordered,  a  Northern  rela- 
tive of  the  Lees  came  forward  with  an  offer  to  pay  the 
levy  and  costs,  but  the  tax  commissioners  declined  the 
tender  on  the  ground  that  the  delinquent  taxpayer 
had  not  made  it  in  person. 

Meanwhile,  the  house  had  been  turned  into  a  mill- 

[236] 


The   Region   'Round  About 

tary  hospital,  and  the  patients  who  died  there  were 
buried  close  by.  When  it  became  necessary  to  have 
a  soldiers'  burial-ground  near  Washington,  Quarter- 
master-general Meigs  was  permitted  to  lay  oif  two  hun- 
dred acres  of  the  estate  for  the  purpose.  This  was  the 
beginning  of  the  National  Cemetery  of  to-day,  where 
about  eighteen  thousand  soldiers  and  sailors  have  found 
a  last  resting-place. 

Some  time  after  the  war,  General  Lee's  son  brought 
suit  for  the  recovery  of  the  property  and  won  it,  the 
Supreme  Court  holding  that  the  tax  commissioners 
ought  to  have  accepted  the  tender  made  them ;  but 
Mr.  Lee  compromised  with  the  Government,  convey- 
ing to  it  his  interest  for  one  hundred  and  fifty  thousand 
dollars.  Since  then  the  house  has  been- put  into  excel- 
lent repair,  and  the  land  about  it  suitably  enclosed 
and  improved.  On  the  upper  edge  of  the  estate  has 
been  established  the  military  post  known  as  Fort 
Myer,  where  cavalry-training  is  carried  to  a  high  point, 
weather  observations  are  made,  and  a  wireless  tele- 
graph station  exchanges  despatches  with  the  Eiffel 
tower  in  Paris.  Some  of  the  land  down  by  the  river 
has  been  made  over  into  an  experimental  farm  under 
the  auspices  of  the  Department  of  Agriculture. 

Happily,  the  Cemetery  has  been  kept  free  from 
tawdry  memorials  and  inconsequential  ornament,  and 

[237] 


W^alks  About    W^ashington 

enveloped  in  an  atmosphere  of  dignity  well  fitting  its 
sacred  character.  Its  most  impressive  tomb  is  that 
dedicated  to  the  Unknown  Dead,  which  contains  the 
remains  of  more  than  two  thousand  soldiers  found  on 
various  battlefields  but  never  identified.  "Their  names 
and  deaths,"  says  the  inscription,  "are  recorded  in  the 
archives  of  their  country,  and  its  grateful  citizens  honor 
them  as  their  noble  army  of  martyrs."  Not  far  away 
is  a  fine  amphitheater  with  a  carpet  of  turf  and  a  can- 
opy of  trellised  vines,  where  memorial  exercises  are 
held  annually  on  Decoration  Day,  the  President  almost 
always  taking  part.  There  is  also  a  Temple  of  Fame, 
bearing  the  names  of  Washington  and  Lincoln,  with 
those  of  the  military  leaders  who  particularly  distin- 
guished themselves  in  the  Civil  War.  An  extension 
has  recently  been  made  in  the  grounds  devoted  to 
sepulture,  where  the  most  conspicuous  monument  is 
that  which  commemorates  the  tragedy  of  the  battle- 
ship Maine  in  Havana  harbor.  The  base  is  built  to 
represent  a  gun-turret  on  the  deck  of  a  man-of-war; 
on  this  are  inscribed  the  names  of  the  victims,  while 
from  the  center  of  the  turret  rises  a  mast  with  a  fight- 
ing-top. A  larger  and  more  ambitious  amphitheater, 
also,  has  been  laid  out  in  the  extension. 

From  Arlington  we  can  go,  by  the  same  road  that 
Washington  trod  on  his  trips,  to  Alexandria,  a  town 

[238] 


The   Region   'Round  About 

which  fairly  reeks  with  associations,  from  the  colo- 
nial names  of  some  of  its  streets  —  King,  Queen,  Prince, 
Princess,  Duke,  Duchess,  Royal  —  to  its  remnants 
■of  cobblestone  pavement  laid  by  the  Hessian  prisoners 
in  the  Revolution.  Here  is  the  old  Carlyle  mansion, 
where  General  Braddock  had  his  headquarters  before 
starting  on  his  ill-fated  expedition  against  the  French 
and  Indians.  In  its  blue  drawing-room  Washington, 
as  a  young  surveyor  ambitious  to  serve  his  king,  re- 
ceived the  first  rudiments  of  his  military  education ; 
and  at  the  foot  of  yonder  staircase  one  evening  stood 
the  same  Washington,  expectant,  while  pretty  Sally 
Fairfax  tripped  lightly  down  to  join  him  and  be 
led  through  the  opening  cotillion  at  her  coming-out 
ball. 

This  must  have  been  a  splendid  mansion  in  its  time, 
with  a  terraced  garden  descending  to  the  river-bank, 
and  a  fountain  in  the  midst  of  the  flower-beds.  It 
was  built  on  the  ruins  of  a  fort  used  by  the  early  settlers 
against  the  Indians ;  the  living-rooms  of  the  fort  be- 
came the  cellar  of  the  mansion,  and  the  fort  proper 
the  plaza  upon  which  the  main  hallway  opens.  You 
enter  the  house  now  through  a  cozy  little  tea-room  es- 
tablished by  a  group  of  young  ladies  of  Alexandria ; 
and  it  may  be  your  good  fortune  to  be  shown  about 
the  premises  by  one  of  them  who  is  herself  a  member 

[  239  1 


Walks  About    Washington 

of  the  historic  Carlyle  and  Fairfax  families  and 
familiar  with  all  their  ancestral  tales. 

A  prominent  site  in  town  is  covered  by  Christ  Church, 
where  Washington  worshiped,  and  where  you  can  see 
the  square  family  pew  for  which  he  paid  the  record 
price,  thirty-six  pounds  and  ten  shillings.  The  church 
stands  in  a  large,  old-fashioned  yard,  sprinkled  with 
the  gravestones  of  men  and  women  of  local  renown. 
Hither,  on  Sundays,  drove  the  ladies  from  Mount 
Vernon,  seven  miles  away,  in  a  chariot  with  a  mahog- 
any body,  green  Venetian  blinds,  and  pictured  panels, 
drawn  by  four  horses.  The  General  did  not  take 
kindly  to  the  coach  for  himself,  but  rode  beside  it  on 
his  favorite  saddle-horse,  followed  at  a  respectful  dis- 
tance by  Bishop,  his  colored  body-servant,  in  scarlet 
livery.  After  service  he  would  linger  in  the  church- 
yard, chatting  with  his  friends,  till  Bishop  reminded 
him  of  the  flight  of  time  by  bringing  up  his  horse  and 
holding  the  stirrup  for  him  to  mount. 

A  spirited  historical  controversy  has  been  waged 
over  the  question  of  Washington's  attitude  toward 
religion.  The  weight  of  evidence  favors  the  idea  that, 
though  not  bound  by  dogma,  he  had  a  broad  faith  in 
the  philosophy  of  Christianity,  always  knelt  with  the 
rest  of  the  congregation  and  joined  in  the  responses, 
and   occasionally   remained   for   the   communion.     He 

[  240] 


The   Region   'Round  About 

certainly  encouraged  his  slaves  to  believe  in  the  effi- 
cacy of  prayer ;  for  once,  when  a  long-continued 
drought  threatened  to  ruin  his  crops,  he  called  his 
farm-hands  together  on  Sunday  morning  and  bade 
them  put  up  their  united  supplication  for  rain.  They 
did  so,  and  to  their  great  delight  the  flood-gates  of 
heaven  suddenly  opened  and  deluged  the  earth ;  but 
the  Washington  family  were  caught  in  the  storm  on 
their  way  home  from  church,  and  could  not  make  shelter 
soon  enough  to  save  Mrs.  Washington's  best  gown  from 
serious  damage  or  the  General  from  being  soaked  to 
the  skin. 

In  his  younger  days,  Washington  was  fond  of  danc- 
ing, and  used  to  come  into  town  to  attend  assemblies 
at  Clagett's  Tavern.  The  assembly-hall  was  up-stairs. 
It  was  afterward  divided  into  three  rooms,  one  of 
which,  having  fallen  into  the  hands  of  persons  who 
respect  its  pedigree,  has  been  pretty  well  preserved. 
In  the  old  times  it  had  at  one  end  a  gallery  for  the 
musicians,  accessible  only  by  a  ladder,  which  was 
removed  as  soon  as  they  were  all  in  their  places.  This 
arrangement  was  designed  to  compel  them  to  stay  at 
their  work  till  released,  and  to  drink  only  what  was 
passed  up  to  them  with  the  approval  of  the  floor- 
committee. 

Across  the  corridor  from  the  old  assembly-hall  was 

[  241  ] 


Jf^a/ks   About    Washington 

a  chamber  that  later  became  interesting  through  its 
occupancy  by  an  unknown  woman  who  came  to  the 
tavern  one  morning  in  1816,  plainly  in  ill  health.  She 
was  accompanied  by  a  few  servants,  with  whom  she 
conversed  only  in  French,  and  neither  she  nor  they 
could  be  drawn  into  any  communication  with  other 
persons,  except  what  was  necessary  to  engage  accom- 
modations and  order  meals.  On  the  fourth  day  of 
her  stay,  there  appeared  on  the  scene  a  strange  man, 
who  from  various  indications  was  assumed  to  be 
her  husband.  An  hour  after  his  arrival  she  died  in 
his  arms.  He  buried  her  in  St.  Paul's  cemetery  on  the 
outskirts  of  the  town,  planting  a  willow-tree  over  her 
grave,  and  raising  at  its  head  a  stone  inscribed  to  the 
memory  simply  of  "A  Female  Stranger,"  with  this- 
stanza  from  Pope's  "  Unfortunate  Lady  "  : 

"  How  loved,  how  honored  once,  avails  thee  not," 
To  whom  related,  or  by  whom  begot. 
A  heap  of  dust  alone  remains  of  thee,  ^ 

'Tis  all  thou  art,  and  all  the  proud  shall  be." 

And  the  Female  Stranger  remains  a  mystery  to  this 
day,  though  many  efforts  have  been  made  to  discover 
her  identity.  A  local  suspicion  that  she  was  Theo- 
dosia  Allston,  the  daughter  of  Aaron  Burr,  seems  to 
be  discredited  by  the  fact  that  Theodosia's  disappear- 
ance  occurred    in    181 2,    and    that    her   husband    was- 

[  242  ] 


The    Region    'Round  About 

dead    long    before    the    Stranger    came    to    Clagett's 
Tavern. 

How  public-spirited  a  citizen  Washington  was  is 
attested  by  his  having  laid  the  foundation  of  Alex- 
andria's free-school  system,  presented  the  town  with 
its  first  fire-engine,  organized  its  first  militia  company, 
and  got  up  a  lottery  to  raise  a  fund  for  improving  the 
country  roads  thereabout.  He  was  an  earnest  Free- 
mason, and  the  lodge  named  for  him  owns  a  number 
of  relics  like  the  chair  in  which  he  presided  as  Master, 
his  apron,  his  wedding  gloves,  his  spurs,  his  pruning- 
knife,  and  a  penknife  which  his  mother  gave  him  when 
he  was  eleven  years  old  and  which  he  carried  till  he 
died.  It  has  also  the  last  authentic  portrait  of  him 
taken  from  life,  a  pastel  done  by  William  Williams  of 
Philadelphia. 

In  and  around  Alexandria  are  other  points  of  inter- 
est, including  the  house  in  which  Colonel  Ellsworth 
was  killed,  and  one  where,  it  is  said,  Martha  Wash- 
ington secreted  herself  for  a  while  during  her  widow- 
hood for  fear  of  a  slave  uprising ;  a  theological  semi- 
nary which  has  graduated,  among  other  eminent  di- 
vines. Bishops  Phillips  Brooks  of  Boston  and  Henry 
C.  Potter  of  New  York;  and  the  nearly  obliterated 
remains  of  the  road  which,  in  1765,  General  Braddock 
began  to  build  into  the  West. 

[  243  ] 


Walks   About    W^ashington 

We  can  go  to  Mount  Vernon  by  boat,  or  over  a  road 
which  Congress  has  repeatedly,  but  without  effect, 
been  petitioned  to  acquire  and  improve.  Already  a 
trolley  company  has  recognized  a  public  demand  and 
is  running  cars  on  a  regular  schedule  from  the  heart 
of  the  capital  city  to  the  borders  of  Washington's  old 
estate.  On  the  way  down  we  pass  Wellington,  once 
the  home  of  Tobias  Lear,  whom  General  Washington 
hired  for  two  hundred  dollars  a  year  to  act  as  tutor  to 
the  children  at  Mount  Vernon,  promoting  him  later 
to  the  post  of  private  secretary.  In  both  capacities, 
his  employer  provided,  he  "will  sit  at  my  table,  will 
live  as  I  live,  will  mix  with  the  company  who  resort 
to  the  house,  and  will  be  treated  in  every  respect  with 
courtesy  and  proper  attention."  Lear  married  three 
wives,  one  of  them  a  kinswoman  of  the  General's. 
He  acquired  means,  removed  in  later  life  to  Washing- 
ton, and  became  a  merchant  with  a  warehouse  on  the 
river.  His  tombstone  in  the  Congressional  Cemetery 
recites  an  overflowing  list  of  his  virtues  and  honors, 
and  posterity  owes  him  a  large  debt  for  having  pre- 
served many  of  the  Washingtoniana  most  valued  now 
by  historians. 

Mount  Vernon  became  the  property  of  the  Wash- 
ington family  by  a  grant  from  Lord  Culpepper  in  1670 
to  John  Washington,  the  great-grandfather  of  George. 

[  244] 


The   Region   'Round  About 

It  was  christened  In  honor  of  Admiral  Vernon,  a  friend 
of  Lawrence  Washington,  the  half-brother  who  brought 
George  up  and  superintended  his  education.  George, 
who  received  It  by  Inheritance,  willed  It  to  his  nephew 
Bushrod,  he  to  his  nephew  John,  and  John  to  a  son  of 
the  same  name.  Financial  embarrassments  led  the 
last  heir  to  part  with  some  of  the  land ;  but  to  an  area 
of  a  few  hundred  acres,  Including  the  mansion,  the 
family  tomb,  and  the  wharf  on  the  Potomac,  he  held 
fast  till  arrangements  could  be  made  for  Its  purchase 
by  the  Mount  Vernon  Ladles'  Association,  a  society 
of  patriotic  women  who,  with  money  privately  raised, 
have  restored  the  place  and  kept  It  In  order  ever  since. 
There  Is  good  reason  to  doubt  whether  this  would  ever 
have  come  about  but  for  the  heroic  energy  of  Miss  Ann 
Pamela  Cunningham  of  South  Carolina,  who,  though 
a  confirmed  Invalid,  devised  and  executed  a  plan  which 
saved  the  estate  from  being  sold  to  a  professional 
showman. 

Just  as  In  Alexandria  we  found  ourselves  In  touch 
with  a  George  Washington  who  was  a  flesh-and-blood 
Virginian  as  distinguished  from  the  colorless  paragon 
of  the  standard  histories,  so  at  Mount  Vernon  we  meet 
the  same  Washington  In  his  character  of  husband, 
farmer,  and  host.  Even  here,  however,  we  are  not 
wholly  beyond  the  penumbra  of  fiction ;    for  only  five 

[  245  1 


Walks  About    Washington 

miles  away  is  the  town  of  Pohick,  once  the  parish  seat 
of  Parson  Weems,  the  inventor  of  the  cherry-tree 
myth  on  which  my  generation  were  industriously  fed. 
Although,  of  course,  no  one  still  living  in  the  region  can 
remember  Washington,  there  are  not  a  few  who  are 
familiar  with  the  details  of  his  daily  life,  handed  down 
in  their  families  from  ancestors  who  did  remember 
him.  These  make  him  out  a  very  human  country 
gentleman,  who  loved  to  ride,  to  shoot,  to  fence,  and 
to  wrestle ;  who  mixed  business  with  pleasure  in  an 
occasional  horse-race  or  real  estate  speculation ;  who 
disbelieved  in  slavery,  and  was  recognized  by  his 
own  two  hundred  bondmen  as  a  kind  master,  yet  was 
noted  for  getting  more  work  out  of  a  negro  than  any 
other  slaveholder  in  Virginia,  and  for  not  hesitating 
to  administer  corporal  punishment  to  one  who  de- 
served it. 

We  learn  from  these  sources  that  he  was  "  as  straight 
as  an  Indian,  and  as  free  in  his  walk";  that  he  was 
what  the  ladies  of  that  day,  in  spite  of  some  marks 
left  by  the  smallpox,  styled  "a  pretty  man"  ;  that  his 
weight  of  two  hundred  and  ten  pounds  was  all  bone 
and  muscle ;  and  that  he  stood  six  feet  and  two  inches 
tall  in  his  shoes,  which  ranged  in  size  from  Number 
eleven  to  Number  thirteen.  His  hands  seem  to  have 
been  his  only  physical  deformity ;    they  were  so  large 

[246] 


The   Region   ^  Round  About 

as  to  attract  attention  and  required  gloves  made 
expressly  for  them,  three  sizes  larger  than  ordinary. 
His  eyes  are  variously  described  as  "blue,"  as  "of  a 
bluish  cast  and  very  lively,"  as  "a  cold,  light  gray," 
and  as  "  so  gray  that  they  looked  almost  white."  These 
alternatives  may  be  reconciled,  perhaps,  by  Gilbert 
Stuart's  recollection  that  his  eyes  were  "a  light  grayish 
blue,  deep  sunken  in  their  sockets,  giving  the  expres- 
sion of  gravity  of  thought."  His  hair  was  originally 
dark  brown  and  fairly  thick ;  his  face  was  long,  his 
nose  prominent,  his  mouth  large,  and  his  chin  firm. 
He  suffered  a  good  deal  with  toothache,  particularly 
after  his  military  service,  and,  as  the  rural  remedy  was 
the  simplest  known,  he  passed  his  last  years  almost 
toothless.  This  drove  at  least  one  portrait-painter 
into  padding  the  front  of  his  mouth  with  cotton  wool, 
to  make  his  lips  look  more  natural  than  they  did  when 
drawn  over  the  ill-fitting  artificial  teeth  which  he 
inserted  for  state  occasions. 

The  great  man  lived  well,  his  principal  meal  being 
a  three  o'clock  dinner,  which  he  washed  down  with 
five  glasses  of  Madeira,  taken  with  dessert.  This 
allowance  he  gradually  increased  toward  the  close  of 
his  life  till  it  reached  two  bottles.  In  sending  away 
for  sale  a  slave  whom,  though  troublesome,  he  guar- 
anteed as   "exceedingly  healthy,   strong  and  good  at 

[247] 


Walks   About    Washington 

the  hoe,"  he  expressed  his  wilHngness  to  take  In  part 
payment  "a  hogshead  of  the  best  rum"  and  an  indefi- 
nite quantity  of  "good  old  spirits."  In  our  gout- 
fearing  era,  these  data  have  the  ring  of  immoderate 
indulgence,  but  measured  by  the  standards  of  the 
eighteenth  century  they  were  temperate  enough.  It 
must  be  said  for  the  General,  also,  that  he  was  chari- 
table in  his  judgment  of  the  weaknesses  of  others,  as 
shown  by  his  contract  with  an  overseer,  to  whom  he 
conceded  the  privilege  of  getting  drunk  for  a  week 
once  a  year ;  and  his  campaign  expenses  for  election 
to  the  Virginia  legislature  embraced  a  hogshead  and  a 
barrel  of  punch,  thirty-five  gallons  of  wine,  and  forty- 
three  gallons  of  strong  cider. 

It  makes  us  feel  a  little  nearer  to  the  Father  of  our 
Country  to  learn  that  he  was  not  immune  to  the  influ- 
ence of  bright  eyes  and  dainty  toilets  ;  that  he  was  in 
love,  or  fancied  he  was,  with  several  different  damsels 
at  as  many  different  times  ;  and  that  his  self-surren- 
der occasionally  declared  itself  in  amatory  verse  too 
dreadful  for  belief.  His  most  serious  infatuation 
seems  to  have  been  with  a  Miss  Cary,  whom  he  courted 
fervently,  only  to  be  dismissed  by  her  father  with  the 
sordid  reminder:  "My  daughter,  sir,  has  been  accus- 
tomed to  ride  in  her  own  coach!"  As  this  was  a 
knock-down   argument   for   a   stripling   surveyor   who 

[248] 


Ford's  Theatre,  the  Old  Front 


>    ',    1    »   » 


c, 


The   Region   ''Round  About 

was  just  struggling  to  raise  his  professional  terms 
to  twenty-five  dollars  a  day  when  employed,  he  went 
his.  way,  but  sought  consolation  in  winning  Martha 
Custis,  who  resembled  Miss  Gary  almost  as  a  twin 
sister. 

Of  Mary  Washington,  mother  of  George,  we  get 
glimpses  in  the  familiar  chat  of  the  vicinage.  She 
appears  as  a  rather  difficult  person,  who  tried  the 
methodical  soul  of  her  son  by  her  thriftless  habits  and 
her  incessant  complaints  of  being  out  of  money.  For 
years  he  did  his  utmost  to  induce  her  to  rent  her  plan- 
tation further  down  the  State,  hire  out  her  slaves,  and 
live  on  her  fixed  income  thus  obtained,  but  to  no  pur- 
pose. Yet  after  he  had  become  so  famous  that  he 
was  obliged  to  entertain  at  Mount  Vernon  all  the 
traveling  celebrities  of  two  hemispheres,  she  suddenly 
took  it  into  her  head  that  she  would  like  to  come  and 
live  with  him.  In  spite  of  his  filial  piety,  candor 
compelled  him  to  show  her  the  impracticability  of  her 
proposal ;  and,  though  he  tried  to  soften  her  disap- 
pointment by  sending  her  the  last  seventy-five  dollars 
in  his  purse,  she  seems  to  have  continued  dissatisfied. 

George  was  not  stingy.  On  the  contrary,  on  each 
of  three  plantations  which  he  farmed  he  kept  one  crib 
of  corn  always  set  apart  for  free  distribution  among 
the  poor,  and  never  let  this  fail,  even  if  he  had  to  rob 

[  249] 


Walks   About    Washington 

his  own  table  supply  or  to  buy  corn  at  a  dollar  a  bushel 
to  make  up  a  deficit.  He  was  not  a  rich  man,  but  for 
sentimental  reasons  held  on  to  Mount  Vernon  after 
it  had  ceased  to  be  profitable  property.  At  his  death, 
he  was  worth  only  about  seventy-five  thousand  dol- 
lars in  his  own  right,  and,  had  he  lived  ten  years 
longer  at  the  same  rate,  he  would  have  died  a  bankrupt. 
It  was  his  wife's  better  investments  that  kept  up  the 
expenses  of  their  home. 

As  we  go  over  the  old  mansion,  we  are  shown  the 
various  rooms  associated  with  Washington's  activities, 
and  that  in  which  his  death  occurred.  Notwith- 
standing his  sturdy  muscular  development,  his  throat 
and  chest  were  always  weak  spots  ;  and  in  1 799,  after 
a  soaking  and  chill  from  a  ride  through  a  December 
storm,  he  went  to  bed  with  a  cold  which  left  him 
unable  to  swallow.  Soon  he  realized  that  the  end 
was  not  far  off.  It  was  characteristic  of  the  man  that 
he  should  then  discharge  the  doctors  from  further  use- 
less ministrations,  give  such  directions  about  his  burial 
as  he  deemed  important,  and  calmly  proceed  to  watch 
the  waning  of  his  own  pulse.  After  a  little  the  hand 
that  held  his  wrist  relaxed  and  dropped  upon  the  cover- 
let, and  the  friends  gathered  in  the  chamber  knew  that 
all  was  over. 

On  the  Maryland  side  of  the  Potomac,  the  suburb 

[250] 


**  The   Region   'Round  About 

most  convenient  of  access  is  Georgetown.  In  fact,  it 
long  ago  ceased  to  be  strictly  a  suburb,  by  incorpora- 
tion with  the  city  of  Washington,  from  which  it 
was  separated  only  by  Rock  Creek,  a  narrow  tributary 
of  the  Potomac.  Officially,  it  is  now  West  Washing- 
ton, and  its  streets  have  been  renamed  and  renum- 
bered so  as  to  conform  as  nearly  as  practicable  to  the 
system  in  use  in  the  capital.  All  the  same,  Georgetown 
has  never  lost  its  identity.  It  had  a  life  of  its  own  be- 
fore Washington  was  thought  of ;  and  within  my 
recollection  the  old  society  of  Georgetown  used  to  look 
askance  at  the  "new  people"  with  whom  Washington 
was  filling  up.  It  is  still  sprinkled  with  hoary  houses 
set  in  quaint  ancestral  gardens,  though  modernism 
has  touched  the  place  at  so  many  points  that  we  can 
get  a  glimpse  of  these  survivals  sometimes  only  through 
deep  vistas  lined  with  the  red  brick  side-walls  of  ur- 
ban blocks.  The  most  attractive  of  the  old  mansions, 
and  the  best  preserved,  is  the  Tudor  house,  built  by 
Doctor  William  Thornton  about  1810.  It  is  a  good 
specimen  from  the  Georgian  epoch  in  architecture, 
standing  fitly  in  the  midst  of  a  great  square  of  lawn, 
with  shade  trees  and  box  hedges  to  correspond ;  and 
one  of  its  traditions  is  that  pretty  little  Nellie  Custis 
went  there  to  her  first  ball,  though  —  but  I  leave  others 
to  struggle  with  the  problem  of  conflicting  dates.     One 

[251  ] 


Jf^alks  About    W^ashington 

thing  we  do  know,  that  the  place  has  always  been  in 
the  possession  of  kinsfolk  of  the  Mount  Vernon  family. 

Many  amusing  stories  are  told  of  Georgetown's 
early  days,  when  the  Scotch  element  were  so  strong  in 
its  population  that  a  man  could  not  be  appointed  to 
the  office  of  flour  inspector  without  subscribing  to  a 
test  oath  declaring  his  disbelief  in  the  doctrine  of 
"transsubstantiation  in  the  sacrament  of  the  Lord's 
supper";  when  the  city  fathers  sought  to  save  the 
expense  of  employing  a  surveyor  to  calculate  the  width 
of  the  Potomac  at  a  point  where  a  bridge  was  to  be 
built,  by  ordering  out  all  good  citizens  to  pull  at  the 
opposite  ends  of  a  measuring-rope ;  and  when  the  big 
triangle  which  was  pounded  as  an  alarm  of  fire  fell 
from  the  belfry  in  which  it  hung,  and  fire-alarms  were 
sounded  thereafter  by  blowing  a  fish-horn  through  the 
streets.  But  none  of  these  tales  will  have  an  interest 
for  most  visitors  equal  to  the  local  version  of  the  origin 
of  the  "Star-Spangled  Banner."  For  Georgetown 
was  Francis  Scott  Key's  old  home. 

As  the  story  goes,  part  of  the  British  forces  which 
marched  upon  Washington  in  the  summer  of  1814 
passed  through  Upper  Marlboro,  Maryland,  on  a 
day  when  Doctor  William  Beanes,  a  prominent 
physician,  was  entertaining  several  friends  at  dinner. 
As   the  gentlemen  talked,  they  grew  more  and  more 

[252  ] 


The   Region   'Round  About 

indignant  against  the  invaders,  and,  news  being 
brought  to  them  at  table  that  a  few  red-coated  strag- 
glers were  still  in  town  committing  depredations 
after  the  main  body  of  their  comrades  had  passed 
on,  some  one  suggested  that  the  party  go  out  and 
arrest  these  men  as  disturbers  of  the  peace.  This 
was  done,  but  to  little  effect ;  for  as  soon  as  the  strag- 
glers got  away,  they  hastened  to  catch  up  with  the 
army  and  lodge  a  complaint  with  their  officers,  who 
at  once  sent  back  a  squad  of  soldiers  to  arrest  the 
arresters.  Three  of  the  dining  party,  including 
Beanes,  were  carried  off  to  Admiral  Cockburn's  flag- 
ship, which  was  lying  in  the  Patuxent  River.  Cock- 
burn,  after  administering  a  disciplinary  lecture  to 
the  trio,  dismissed  the  others  but  took  Beanes  as  a 
prisoner  on  his  ship  to  Baltimore. 

Key,  who  was  Beanes's  nephew,  hastened  to  Balti- 
more as  soon  as  he  heard  of  the  doctor's  plight,  and 
under  a  flag  of  truce  went  aboard  the  vessel  to  inter- 
cede with  Cockburn  for  his  uncle's  release.  His  plea 
was  vain ;  and  Cockburn  would  not  even  let  him 
go  ashore  again  till  after  the  bombardment  of  Fort 
McHenry.  When  Key  returned  to  Georgetown,  he 
related  his  adventures  at  the  next  meeting  of  the 
local  glee-club,  and  his  fellow  members  urged  him 
to  put  his  narrative  into  verse.     He  read  his  produc- 

[  253  ] 


Walks  About    Washington 

tion  at  a  later  meeting,  and  the  club  Introduced  it 
to  the  public,  who  adopted  it  as  the  national  anthem. 

Among  the  noted  names  associated  with  George- 
town, outside  of  political  life,  may  be  mentioned 
those  of  Joel  Benton,  the  poet  and  essayist,  who 
bought  a  farm  on  the  Washington  side  of  Rock  Creek, 
since  famous  as  the  Kalorama  estate ;  Robert  Fulton, 
the  pioneer  in  steam  navigation,  who  made  some  of 
his  early  experiments  with  water-craft  and  submarine 
explosives  on  the  small  streams  of  the  neighborhood; 
George  Peabody,  financier  and  philanthropist,  who 
came  as  a  poor  boy  from  Massachusetts  and  worked 
as  a  clerk  in  a  store  in  Bridge  Street ;  William  W. 
Corcoran,  whose  later  career  somewhat  resembled 
Peabody's,  and  whose  real  start  in  life  dated  from  the 
failure  of  a  little  shop  he  kept  in  the  heart  of  the 
town ;  and,  last  but  not  least,  a  youthful  belle  whose 
romance  demands  a  paragraph  or  two  of  its  own. 

Baron  Bodisco,  Russian  Minister  to  the  United 
States  during  the  Van  Buren  administration,  lived, 
as  did  most  of  the  foreign  envoys  of  that  time,  in 
Georgetown.  He  was  a  bachelor,  well  on  toward 
sixty  years  of  age,  uncompromisingly  ugly,  with  a 
face  covered  with  wrinkles,  and  a  bald  head  which  he 
tried  to  conceal  under  a  somewhat  obtrusive  wig. 
He  had  for  visitors  one  winter  two  young  nephews, 

[  254] 


The   Region   'Round  About 

for  whom  he  gave  a  dancing  party  at  the  legation, 
inviting  all  the  socially  eligible  boys  and  girls  in  town. 
By  some  accident,  one  of  his  invitations  miscarried 
and  failed  to  reach  Harriet  Beall  Williams,  a  most 
attractive  and  popular  schoolgirl  of  sixteen.  He 
hastened  to  repair  his  error  as  soon  as  he  discovered 
it,  and  on  the  evening  of  the  party  hunted  her  up  to 
make  his  apologies  in  person.  It  was  a  case  of  love 
at  first  sight.  After  that  he  contrived  to  meet  her 
occasionally  on  her  way  to  or  from  school,  and  ere 
long  he  became  an  avowed  suitor  for  her  hand.  The 
courtship,  though  not  displeasing  to  the  girl,  was 
for  some  time  discouraged  by  her  family.  Finding 
her  resolved  to  accept  her  elderly  lover,  however, 
they  withdrew  their  active  opposition,  and  Beauty 
and  the  Beast,  as  they  were  commonly  called,  were 
married  in  June. 

The  Baron,  who  had  excellent  taste  in  everything 
except  his  own  make-up,  superintended  all  the  de- 
tails of  the  affair,  even  to  the  costumes  of  the  bridal 
party.  The  bridesmaids  were  schoolmates  of  Miss 
Williams,  one  being  Jessie  Benton,  then  aged  four- 
teen, who  afterward  became  the  wife  of  General 
John  C.  Fremont.  The  groomsmen  were  generally 
contemporaries  of  the  groom,  so  that  the  note  of 
age    disparity    was    uniform    throughout.     President 

[255] 


Walks   About    Washington 

Van  Buren  and  Henry  Clay  were  conspicuous  among 
the  guests.  At  the  first  opportunity,  the  Baron 
took  his  bride  to  Russia  and  presented  her  at  court, 
where  she  electrified  the  assembled  nobility  by  shak- 
ing the  Czar's  hand  in  cordial  American  fashion. 
It  delighted  the  Czar,  however,  which  was  more  to 
the  point ;  and,  although  she  did  many  unusual 
things,  like  declining  the  Czarina's  invitation  to  a 
Sunday  function  because  she  had  been  brought  up 
to  "keep  the  Sabbath,"  she  became  a  great  favorite 
in  the  inner  imperial  circle,  and  loved  to  dwell  on  her 
foreign  experiences  after  she  came  back  to  Georgetown 
to  live.  The  Bodisco  house  is  still  pointed  out  to 
strangers. 

Not  all  the  historic  associations  of  Georgetown  and 
its  neighborhood  have  been  so  peaceful.  For  a  few 
miles  out  of  town  the  river's  edge  is  dotted  with  se- 
questered nooks  to  which  hot-brained  gentlemen  could 
retire  on  occasion,  to  wipe  out  their  grievances  in  one 
another's  blood.  The  Little  Falls  bridge  afforded 
such  a  retreat  to  Henry  Clay  and  John  Randolph 
after  Randolph's  speech  declaring  that  the  "alphabet 
that  writes  the  name  of  Thersites,  of  blackguard,  of 
squalidity,  refuses  her  letters  for"  Clay.  The  com- 
batants took  the  precaution  to  cross  the  bridge  far 
enough  to  avoid  the  jurisdiction  of  the  District  au- 

[256] 


The   Region   'Round  About 

thorities.  Clay's  first  shot  cut  Randolph's  coat  near 
the  hip,  Randolph's  did  nothing.  At  the  second  word, 
Clay's  bullet  went  wild,  and  Randolph  deliberately 
sent  his  into  the  air,  remarking:  "I  do  not  fire  at 
you,  Mr.  Clay!"  At  the  same  time  he  advanced 
with  hand  outstretched,  Clay  meeting  him  halfway. 
Randolph,  as  they  were  leaving  the  field,  pointed  to 
the  hole  made  by  Clay's  first  bullet,  saying  jocosely  : 
"You  owe  me  a  coat,  Mr.  Clay."  "I  am  glad,  sir," 
answered  Clay,  "that  the  debt  is  no  greater." 

The  subject  of  duels  calls  to  mind  another  suburb, 
to  wit,  Bladensburg,  Maryland,  where  the  defenders 
of  Washington  made  their  brief  and  ineffectual  stand 
against  the  invading  British  in  1814,  Here,  for 
sixty  years,  in  a  green  little  dell  about  a  mile  out  of 
town,  all  sorts  of  personal  and  political  feuds  were 
settled  with  deadly  weapons.  The  most  celebrated 
of  these  meetings  was  that  of  March  22,  1820,  be- 
tween two  Commodores  of  the  American  navy, 
Stephen  Decatur  and  James  Barron.  Like  most 
duels,  it  was  more  the  work  of  mischief-makers  than 
of  the  principals  themselves. 

Decatur  was  at  the  height  of  his  fame  for  achieve- 
ments in  the  War  of  1 81 2  and  against  the  Barbary 
pirates ;  he  was  a  fine  marksman  with  the  pistol, 
and  had  had  several  earlier  experiences  on   the  duel- 

[  257] 


Walks  About    Washington 

Ing-field.  Barron,  on  the  other  hand,  was  under  a 
cloud  for  some  professional  mistakes ;  he  was  six 
years  Decatur's  senior,  had  no  taste  for  dueling, 
and  was  near-sighted.  Down  to  the  last,  Barron 
was  plainly  disposed  to  accept  any  reasonable  con- 
cession and  call  the  affair  off ;  but  Decatur  was  in 
high  spirits  and  full  of  confidence. 

Two  shots  rang  out  simultaneously,  and  both  men 
fell.  Decatur,  who  was  at  first  supposed  to  be  dead, 
presently  showed  signs  of  returning  animation  and 
was  lifted  to  his  feet,  only  to  stagger  a  few  paces 
toward  his  antagonist  and  fall  again.  As  the  two 
men  lay  side  by  side,  Barron  turned  his  face  to  say 
to  Decatur  that  he  hoped,  when  they  met  in  another 
world,  they  would  be  better  friends  than  in  this. 
Decatur  responded  that  he  had  never  been  Barron's 
enemy,  and,  though  he  cherished  no  animosity  to 
Barron  for  killing  him,  he  found  it  harder  to  forgive 
the  men  who  had  goaded  them  into  this  quarrel. 
Both  combatants  were  carried  back  to  Washington, 
where  Barron  slowly  recovered  from  his  wound ;  but 
Decatur,  after  a  day  of  intense  suffering,  died  in  the 
house  which  still  bears  his  name,  at  the  corner  of 
Jackson  Place  and  H  Street. 

So  habitually  was  this  one  ravine  chosen  for  the 
settlement  of  affairs  of  honor  that  when  two  Repre- 

[258] 


The    Region   '  Rou7td  About 

sentatlves,  Jonathan  Cilley  of  Alaine  and  William  J. 
Graves  of  Kentucky,  decided  in  1838  to  end  a  dis- 
pute with  rifles,  they  outwitted  pursuit  by  choosing 
for  their  fight  the  eastern  end  of  the  Anacostia  bridge 
on  the  high-road  to  Marlboro,  Maryland ;  and  a 
posse  who  started  out  to  stop  them  went  to  the  ac- 
customed ground  only  to  find  it  empty.  This  duel 
had  naught  of  the  dramatic  quality  of  that  between 
Decatur  and  Barron,  but  its  effect  on  the  public 
mind  proved  more  far-reaching.  Cilley  was  a  young 
man  of  brilliant  promise,  highly  respected  as  well  as 
popular,  with  a  wife  and  three  little  children.  The 
quarrel  was  forced  upon  him  because,  in  the  interest 
of  the  proper  dignity  of  Congress,  he  objected  to  a 
proposed  investigation  by  the  House  of  some  vague 
and  irresponsible  insinuations  made  in  a  recent  news- 
paper letter  against  sundry  members  who  were  not 
named  or  otherwise  identified.  Graves  insisted  that 
this  speech  was  an  insult  to  the  author  of  the  article, 
whose  championship  he  gratuitously  undertook. 

The  first  two  shots  were  thrown  away  on  both 
sides.  At  the  third  fire,  Cilley  fell  upon  his  face, 
his  adversary's  bullet  having  killed  him  instantly. 
When  the  news  of  his  death  spread  through  Wash- 
ington, indignation  against  Graves  rose  to  fever  heat, 
and    his    public    career   ended   with    that    hour.     The 

[259] 


Walks   About    Washington 

wantonness  of  such  a  sacrifice  of  a  useful  life,  where 
the  writer  who  figured  as  the  cause  of  the  quarrel 
did  not  even  take  a  part  in  it,  gave  special  point  to 
the  condemnation  of  the  false  standard  of  honor  set 
up  by  the  "code."  The  funeral  services  for  Cilley 
at  the  Capitol  were  attended  by  the  President  and 
Cabinet,  in  testimony  to  the  high  esteem  in  which 
he  had  universally  been  held ;  while  the  Supreme 
Court  declined  its  invitation  in  a  body,  as  the  most 
emphatic  means  of  expressing  its  abhorrence  of  gloss- 
ing murder  with  a  thin  coat  of  etiquette.  Ministers, 
not  only  in  Washington  but  in  all  the  more  highly 
civilized  parts  of  the  country,  denounced  dueling 
from  the  pulpit,  newspapers  published  editorials 
and  associations  adopted  resolutions  against  it,  addi- 
tional legislation  for  the  abolition  of  the  practice 
was  introduced  in  various  legislatures,  and  Congress 
passed  an  act  to  punish,  with  a  term  in  the  peniten- 
tiary, the  sending  or  acceptance  of  a  challenge  in  the 
District  of  Columbia. 


[260] 


Stage  Entrance  through  which  Booth  Escaped 


'    »  '        .  ,  ' 


CHAPTER  X 
MONUMENTS  AND  MEMORIES 

AMONG  the  projects  In  the  minds  of  the  founders 
of  the  federal  city  was  a  monument  to  celebrate 
the  success  of  the  American  Revolution.  George 
Washington  personally  selected  the  site  for  it,  due 
south  of  the  center  of  the  President's  House.  Mean- 
while the  Continental  Congress  had  recommended 
the  erection  of  an  equestrian  statue  of  General  Wash- 
ington, and,  immediately  after  his  death,  the  Con- 
gress then  in  session  resolved  to  rear  a  monument 
under  which  his  body  should  be  entombed.  But, 
though  resolutions  were  cheap,  monuments  were 
costly,  and  the  project  gradually  faded  out  of  mind 
till  revived  in  i8i6  by  a  member  of  Congress  from 
South  Carolina.  Still  nothing  happened,  till  another 
generation  devised  a  plan  for  raising  the  money  by 
popular  subscription  without  waiting  longer  for  a 
Government  appropriation.  The  Washington  Monu- 
ment Society  was  organized  with  a  membership  fee 
of  one   dollar,   so  as   to   give  every  American  oppor- 

[261] 


Walks  About    Washingto?i 

tunity  to  subscribe.  By  1848  a  sufficient  fund  had 
been  collected  to  spur  Congress  into  presenting  a 
site;  and  the  spot  chosen  was  that  marked  by  Wash- 
ington for  the  monument  to  the  Revolution,  thus 
happily  combining  his  plan  with  the  nation's  tribute 
to  himself.  Tests  of  the  ground  showed  that,  in 
order  to  get  a  safe  footing,  it  would  be  necessary 
to  move  a  little  further  to  the  eastward,  which  ac- 
counts for  the  present  monument's  being  not  quite 
on  the  short  axis  of  the  White  House. 

For  the  original  plan  of  a  statue,  an  obelisk  of 
granite  and  marble  was  substituted,  which  by  its 
simplicity  of  lines,  its  towering  height,  and  its  purity 
of  color,  should  symbolize  the  exceptional  character 
and  services  of  the  foremost  American.  The  build- 
ing fund  held  out  pretty  well  till  a  politico-religious 
quarrel  arose  over  the  acceptance,  for  incorporation 
in  the  monument,  of  a  fine  block  of  African  marble 
sent  by  the  Pope ;  and  on  Washington's  birthday, 
1855,  a  Know-Nothing  mob  descended  upon  the 
headquarters  of  the  Society,  seized  its  books  and 
papers,  and  took  forcible  possession  of  the  monu- 
ment. The  Know-Nothing  party  ended  its  political 
existence  three  years  later,  and  the  monument  went 
back  to  its  former  custodians ;  but  the  riotous  dem- 
onstration had  checked    the  orderly   progress    of   the 

[262] 


Monuments   and  Memories 

work,  and,  as  the  Civil  War  was  imminent,  the  shaft, 
then  one  hundred  seventy-eight  feet  high,  was  roofed 
over  to  await  the  return  of  normal  conditions. 
It  was  not  till  1876  that,  under  the  patriotic  impetus 
of  the  centenary.  Congress  was  induced  to  cooperate. 
The  work  was  vigorously  pushed  from  1880  to  1884; 
and  in  the  spring  of  1885,  when  it  had  attained  a 
height  of  five  hundred  fifty-five  feet  and  five 
and  five-tenths  inches,  occurred  the  formal  dedica- 
tion of  the  Washington  National  Monument  as  we 
see  it  to-day. 

For  the  benefit  of  any  one  whose  pleasure  in  a 
masterpiece  is  measured  with  a  plummet,  it  may  be 
noted  that  the  Monument  falls  less  than  fifty  feet 
short  of  the  Tower  of  Babel ;  to  him  who  revels  in 
terms  of  distance,  the  glistening  pile  will  appeal  on 
the  ground  that  it  is  visible  from  a  crest  of  the  Blue 
Ridge  Mountains,  more  than  forty  miles  away  as  the 
bee  flies.  But  most  of  its  neighbors  in  Washington 
find  it  for  other  reasons  an  unceasing  joy.  To  us  it 
is  more  truly  at  the  heart  of  things  than  even  the 
Capitol.  It  is  the  hoary  sentinel  at  our  water-gate ; 
or,  spread  the  city  out  like  a  fan,  and  the  Monument 
is  the  pivot  which  holds  the  frame  together. 

The  visitor  who  has  seen  it  once  has  just  begun  to 
see  it.     A  smooth-faced  obelisk,  devoid  of  ornament, 

[263] 


Walks   About    Washington 

it  would  appear  the  stolidest  object  in  the  landscape ; 
in  truth,  it  is  as  versatile  as  the  clouds.  Every  change 
in  your  position  reveals  it  in  a  new  phase.  Go  close 
to  it  and  look  up,  and  its  walls  seem  to  rise  infinitely 
and  dissolve  into  the  atmosphere ;  stand  on  the  neigh- 
boring hills,  and  you  are  tempted  to  throw  a  stone 
over  its  top ;  sail  down  the  Potomac,  and  the  slender 
white  shaft  is  still  sending  its  farewells  after  you  when 
the  city  has  passed  out  of  sight.  It  plays  chameleon 
to  the  weather.  It  may  be  gay  one  moment  and 
grave  the  next,  like  the  world.  Sometimes,  in  the 
varying  lights,  it  loses  its  perspective  and  becomes 
merely  a  flat  blade  struck  against  space ;  an  hour 
later,  every  line  and  seam  is  marked  with  the  crisp- 
ness  of  chiseled  sculpture.  On  a  fair  morning,  it  is 
radiant  under  the  first  beams  of  the  rising  sun ;  in 
the  full  of  the  moon,  it  is  like  a  thing  from  another 
world  —  cold,  shimmering,  unreal.  Often  in  the 
spring  and  fall  its  peak  is  lost  in  vapor,  and  the  shaft 
looks  as  if  it  were  a  tall,  thin  Ossa  penetrating  the 
home  of  the  gods.  Again,  with  its  base  wrapped 
in  fog  and  its  summit  in  cloud,  it  is  a  symbol  of 
human  destiny,  emerging  from  one  mystery  only  to 
pass  into  another.  Always  the  same,  yet  never  twice 
alike,  it  is  to  the  old  Washingtonian  a  being  instinct 
with  life,   a  personality  to  be  known  and  loved.     It 

[2641 


Monuments  and  Memories 

has   relatively  little  to  tell   the  passing  stranger,  but 
many  confidences  for  the  friend  of  years. 

To  realize  all  that  it  is  to  us,  you  must  see  it  on  a 
changeable  day.  Come  with  me  then  to  the  Capitol, 
whence,  from  an  outlook  on  the  western  terrace,  we 
face  a  thick  and  troubled  sky.  The  air  is  murky. 
Clouds  fringed  with  gray  fleece,  which  have  been 
hanging  so  low  as  to  hide  the  apex  of  the  Monument, 
are  folding  back  upon  themselves  in  the  southern 
heavens,  forming  a  rampart  dark  and  forbidding. 
Against  this  the  obelisk  is  projected,  having  caught 
and  held  one  ray  of  pure  sunshine  which  has  found 
an  opening  and  shot  through  like  a  searchlight.  It 
is  plain  that  an  atmospheric  battle  is  at  hand.  The 
garrulous  city  seems  struck  dumb ;  the  timid  trees 
are  shivering  with  apprehension ;  the  voice  of  the 
wind  is  half  sob  and  half  warning.  The  search-ray 
vanishes  as  the  door  of  the  cloud  fort  is  closed  and 
the  rumbling  of  the  bolts  is  heard  behind  it.  The 
landscape  in  the  background  is  blotted  from  view 
by  eddies  of  yellow  dust,  as  if  a  myriad  of  horsemen 
were  making  a  tentative  charge.  Silent  and  un- 
moved, the  obelisk  stands  there,  a  white  warrior 
bidding  defiance  to  the  forces  of  sky  and  earth.  As 
the  subsiding  dust  marks  the  retreat  of  the  cavalry, 
the   artillery  opens   fire.     First  one   masked   porthole 

[265] 


Walks  About    Washington 

and  then  another  belches  flame,  but  the  sharp  crash 
or  dull  roar  which  follows  passes  quite  unnoticed  by 
the  champion.  Then  comes  the  rattle  of  musketry, 
as  a  sheet  of  hail  sweeps  across  the  field. 

We  are  not  watching  a  combat,  only  an  assault, 
for  these  demonstrations  call  forth  no  response.  On 
the  champion  —  taking  everything,  giving  nothing  — 
the  only  effect  they  produce  is  a  change  of  color  from 
snowy  white  to  ashen  gray.  Even  that  is  but  for  a 
moment.  As  the  storm  of  hail  melts  into  a  shower 
of  limpid  raindrops  to  which  the  relieved  trees  open 
their  palms,  the  wind  ceases  its  wailing,  and  the  wall 
of  cloud  falls  apart  to  let  the  sun's  rays  through  once 
more. 

The  Monument  is,  of  course,  only  one  of  many 
memorials  to  great  men  in  Washington.  We  have 
heroes  and  philanthropists,  poets  and  physicians, 
soldiers  and  men  of  science,  mounted  and  afoot, 
standing  and  sitting.  We  have  horses  in  every  pos- 
ture that  will  hold  a  rider :  Jackson's  balanced  on 
its  hind  legs  like  the  toy  charger  on  the  nursery  man- 
telpiece ;  Washington's  getting  ready  to  try  the 
same  trick ;  Sheridan's  dashing  along  the  line  to  the 
lilt  of  Buchanan  Read's  poem ;  Pulaski's,  Greene's 
and  McPherson's,  Hancock's  and  McClellan's  and 
Logan's,  walking  calmly  over  the  field;    Scott's  and 

[266] 


Monuments  and  Memories 

Sherman's  watching  the  parade.  The  best  equestrian 
statue  is  that  of  General  George  H.  Thomas,  by 
Quincy  Ward,  at  the  junction  of  Massachusetts 
Avenue  with  Fourteenth  Street.  Here  wc  have  the 
acme  of  art  in  treating  such  a  subject :  spirit  coupled 
with  repose.  The  horse  has  been  moving,  but  has 
been  checked  by  the  rider  to  give  him  a  chance  to 
look  about;  they  could  go  on  the  next  moment  if 
need  be,  or  they  could  stand  indefinitely  just  as  they 
are. 

The  Scott  statue,  at  Massachusetts  Avenue  and 
Sixteenth  Street,  is  good  if  we  take  it  apart  and 
examine  it  piecemeal ;  but  the  massive  rider  threatens 
to  break  down  his  slender-limbed  steed,  which  is, 
by  some  mischance,  of  the  mare's  build  and  not  the 
stallion's.  General  Sheridan,  who  used  to  live  within 
a  stone's  throw  of  this  statue,  lay  while  ill  in  a  bed- 
room commanding  a  view  of  it.  "I  hope,"  he  re- 
marked one  day,  "that  if  a  grateful  country  ever 
commemorates  me  in  bronze,  it  will  give  me  a  better 
mount  than  old  Scott's!"  It  is  hard  to  find  any- 
thing new  to  do  with  a  general  officer  and  a  horse 
without  putting  them  into  some  impossible  attitude. 
A  sculptor  who  attempts  a  reasonable  innovation  is 
liable  to  be  snubbed  for  it,  as  one  was  not  long  ago 
when  he  offered  in  competition  a  statue  of   General 

[  267  ] 


Walks   About    Washington 

Grant,  dismounted,  with  his  bridle  swung  over  one 
of  his  arms  while  he  used  the  other  hand  to  hold  his 
field-glass. 

Some  of  the  best-known  statues  in  the  city  have 
attracted  as  much  attention  by  their  travels  as  by 
their  artistic  qualities.  One  of  these  is  Greenough's 
colossal  marble  presentment  of  George  Washington, 
which  visitors  to  the  Capitol  ten  years  ago  will  recall 
as  standing  in  the  open  space  facing  the  main  east 
portico.  Greenough  was  in  Italy  in  1835,  when  it 
was  ordered,  and  spent  eight  years  on  its  production. 
It  shows  Washington  seated,  nude  to  the  waist,  and 
below  that  draped  in  a  flowing  robe.  It  weighed, 
when  finished,  twelve  tons  without  a  pedestal,  and 
required  twenty-two  yoke  of  oxen  to  haul  from  Flor- 
ence to  Genoa.  Peasants  who  saw  it  on  the  way 
took  it  for  the  image  of  some  mighty  saint,  and 
dropped  upon  their  knees  and  crossed  themselves  as 
it  passed.  The  man-of-war  which  was  waiting  for 
it  at  Genoa  had  no  hatchway  large  enough  to  take 
it  in,  so  a  merchant  vessel  had  to  be  chartered  for  its 
voyage  to  America.  Arrived  at  the  Capitol,  where 
it  was  intended  to  stand  in  the  center  of  the  rotunda, 
it  could  not  be  squeezed  through  the  doors,  and  the 
masonry  had  to  be  cut  away.  Then  it  was  discovered 
that  it  was  causing  the  floor  to  settle,   and  a  lot  of 

[268] 


Monuments   and  Memories 

shoring  had  to  be  done  In  the  crypt  underneath. 
Finally,  as  it  was  not  suited  to  its  place,  the  masonry 
around  the  doorway  was  ripped  out  again,  and  the 
statue  was  set  up  in  the  plaza,  where  it  remained 
till  1908,  the  sport  of  rains  and  frosts  and  souvenir- 
maniacs,  when  it  took  what  every  one  hopes  will  be 
its  last  journey  —  to  the  National  Museum.  The 
original  purpose  of  Congress  was  to  have  a  "pedes- 
trian statue"  costing,  all  told,  five  thousand  dollars. 
What  has  eventuated  is  Washington's  head  set  on  a 
torso  of  Jupiter  Tonans,  costing,  with  all  its  traveling 
expenses,  more  than  fifty  thousand  dollars. 

Another  peregrinating  statue  is  that  of  Thomas 
Jefferson,  which  stands  to-day  against  the  east  wall 
of  the  rotunda.  In  1833  it  occupied  the  center  of 
this  room.  When  Greenough's  Washington  was 
brought  in,  Jefferson  was  removed  to  the  Library  of 
Congress,  which  was  then  housed  in  the  rooms  of  the 
west  front  of  the  Capitol.  In  1850  it  was  carried 
up  to  the  White  House  and  planted  in  the  middle 
of  the  north  garden.  It  held  that  site  for  twenty-four 
years  and  then  came  back  to  the  rotunda,  from  which 
there  is  no  reason  to  think  it  will  be  moved  again. 

The  only  parallel  to  these  instances  of  frequent 
shifts  in  the  local  art  world  is  the  case  of  a  painting 
entitled  "Love  and  Life,"  presented   by  the  English 

[269] 


W^alks   About    W^ashington 

artist,  George  F.  Watts,  to  our  Government.  Mr. 
Cleveland,  who  was  President  at  the  time,  hung  it 
in  the  White  House,  but  the  prudish  comments  passed 
upon  it  by  visitors  led  to  its  transfer  to  the  Corcoran 
Gallery  of  Art.  In  the  Roosevelt  administration  it 
made  three  trips,  first  to  the  White  House,  then  back 
to  the  Corcoran  Gallery,  and  then  to  the  White  House 
again,  where  it  rested  till  President  Taft  came  in, 
only  to  be  rebanished  to  the  Corcoran  Gallery.  Presi- 
dent Wilson  had  it  returned  to  the  White  House, 
and  there  it  is  at  the  present  writing. 

Although  there  has  never  been  in  Washington  a 
definite  scheme  for  the  location  of  statues,  which 
have  been  planted,  hit  or  miss,  wherever  space  of- 
fered, accident  has  arranged  a  few  of  them  so  as  to 
form  a  rather  remarkable  historical  series.  Starting 
with  the  Washington  National  Monument,  in  honor 
of  the  foremost  figure  in  the  Revolution  and  the 
President  who  set  in  motion  the  machinery  of  the 
embryo  republic,  we  pass  directly  northward  to  the 
White  House,  home  of  all  his  successors  in  the  Presi- 
dency and  emblematic  of  the  civil  government  which 
emerged  from  the  War  for  Independence.  A  few 
hundred  feet  further  northward  stands  the  statue  of 
Andrew  Jackson,  the  hero  of  the  War  of  1812,  the 
first  fought  by  the  United  States  as  a  nation.     About 

[  270] 


Monuments   and  Memories 

a  half-mile  more  to  the  north  we  reach  the  statue  of 
Winfield  Scott,  the  general  whose  capture  of  Mexico 
City  ended  the  second  foreign  war  in  which  the  nation 
engaged.  All  that  is  needed  to  complete  this  re- 
markable procession  is  a  memorial  arch  on  Sixteenth 
Street  heights,  to  the  soldiers  and  sailors  on  both 
sides  of  the  Civil  War  which  cemented  the  Union 
begun  under  Washington. 

Strange  to  say,  the  city  which  best  knew  Lincoln 
and  Grant  has  had,  up  to  this  time,  no  out-of-doors 
statue  whatever  of  Grant  and  no  adequate  one  of 
Lincoln.  In  Lincoln  Park,  about  a  mile  east  of  the 
Capitol,  is  the  Emancipation  statue,  and  in  front 
of  the  City  Hall  there  is  an  insignificant  standing 
figure  of  Lincoln,  perched  on  a  pillar  so  high  that 
the  features  can  be  seen  only  dimly.  A  statue  of 
Grant  will  later  occupy  the  central  pedestal  of  a 
group  in  the  little  park  at  the  foot  of  the  western 
slope  of  the  Capitol  grounds,  which  it  is  proposed  to 
call  Union  Square.  On  either  side  of  Grant,  the 
plan  originally  was  to  place  Sherman  and  Sheridan ; 
but  as  the  Sherman  and  Sheridan  statues  already 
set  up  elsewhere  are  so  diverse  in  character,  it  has 
been  questioned  whether  they  would  fit  into  the 
Union  Square  group.  After  many  suggestions,  con- 
troversies,   and   reports,  Congress   decided,  a   year   or 

[  271  ] 


Walks   About    Washington 

two  ago,  upon  a  form  of  memorial  for  Lincoln,  which 
is  already  under  way.  It  will  be  a  marble  temple, 
designed  by  Henry  Bacon,  in  Potomac  Park,  with  a 
statue  of  the  War  President,  by  Daniel  Chester 
French,  visible  in  the  recesses  of  its  dignified  colonnade. 
Besides  the  scores  of  statues  and  miles  of  painted 
portraits  which  keep  vivid  the  memory  of  great  and 
good  men  who  are  gone,  Washington  has  many  in- 
stitutions and  buildings  with  personal  associations 
that  fulfil  a  similar  purpose.  The  Corcoran  Gallery 
of  Art,  for  instance,  was  the  gift  of  the  late  William 
W.  Corcoran,  the  financier.  The  national  deaf-mute 
college  at  Kendall  Green,  on  the  northeastern  edge 
of  the  city,  recalls  its  original  benefactor,  Amos  Ken- 
dall, who  was  Postmaster-general  under  Jackson,  as 
well  as  the  work  of  Doctor  Edward  M.  Gallaudet 
in  raising  it  from  its  modest  beginnings  to  its  present 
eminence.  The  Pension  Office,  in  which  eight  in- 
augural balls  have  been  held,  takes  first  rank  among 
our  public  edifices  for  architectural  ugliness.  It  is 
nevertheless  an  honor  to  the  memory  of  Quarter- 
master-general Meigs,  who  asked  the  privilege  of 
proving,  in  an  era  of  extravagance,  that  a  suitable 
building  could  be  reared  for  the  money  allotted  to 
it,  and  who  turned  back  into  the  treasury  a  large 
slice    of    his    appropriation    after    having    paid    every 

[272  ] 


Monuments   and  Memories 

bill.  The  present  Library  of  Congress  is,  in  a  like 
manner,  a  monument  to  the  late  Bernard  R.  Green, 
whose  engineering  skill  and  administrative  faculty 
performed  a  feat  corresponding  to  General  Meigs's ; 
it  reminds  us,  also,  of  Thomas  Jefferson,  whose  pri- 
vate library,  purchased  after  the  burning  of  the  Capi- 
tol, formed  the  nucleus  of  the  present  magnificent 
collection.  The  Soldiers'  Home,  near  the  north  bound- 
ary of  the  city,  commemorates  General  Scott's 
success  in  Mexico,  the  tribute  he  exacted  there  for  a 
breach  of  truce  being  used  in  founding  this  beautiful 
retreat,  where  veterans  of  the  regular  army  may  pass 
their  declining  years  in  comfort. 

Few  people,  probably,  are  aware  that  the  Smith- 
sonian Institution,  whose  fame  is  as  wide  as  civiliza- 
tion, owes  its  origin  to  the  rejection  of  a  manuscript 
prepared  for  publication.  James  Smithson,  an  Eng- 
lishman of  means,  who  had  been  a  frequent  contrib- 
utor to  the  Philosophical  Transactions  of  the  Royal 
Society  of  London,  sent  in,  a  little  less  than  a  century 
ago,  a  paper  which  the  censors  refused  to  print ;  and 
its  author  avenged  the  affront  by  altering  his  will, 
in  which  he  had  bequeathed  his  entire  fortune  to 
the  Society,  so  as  to  throw  the  reversion  to  the  United 
States,  a  country  he  had  never  seen,  to  be  used  for 
"an   establishment   for   the   increase   and   diffusion  of 

[  273  ] 


Walks  About    Washington 

knowledge  among  men."  Congress  had  a  long  quibble 
about  the  disposal  of  the  money,  but  at  last  hit  upon 
a  plan,  and  since  then  has  turned  over  much  of  the 
public  scientific  research  work  to  be  performed 
"under  the  direction  of  the  Smithsonian  Institution." 
The  accumulation  of  trophies  of  exploration,  historical 
relics,  and  gifts  of  objects  of  art  and  industry  from 
foreign  potentates,  presently  overflowed  the  accom- 
modations of  the  Institution  proper,  and  a  National 
Museum  was  built  to  house  these  treasures.  The 
Smithsonian  commemorates  not  only  the  beneficence 
of  Smithson,  but  the  great  achievements  of  its  several 
executive  heads,  like  Joseph  Henry's  in  electromag- 
netism,  Spencer  F.  Baird's  in  the  culture  of  fish  as  a 
source  of  food-supply,  and  Samuel  P.  Langley's  in 
aerial  navigation  and  the  standardization  of  time. 

The  old  City  Hall,  better  known  now  as  the  District 
Court  House,  will  be  remembered  as  the  place  where 
the  first  President  Harrison  probably  caught  the 
cold  which  resulted  in  his  death.  It  has  a  tragic 
association  with  another  President,  also,  for  in  one 
of  its  court-rooms  was  conducted  the  trial  of  Guiteau 
for  assassinating  James  A.  Garfield.  This  trial  ex- 
cited vigorous  comment  throughout  the  country  by 
what  seemed  to  many  critics  an  unwarrantable  lati- 
tude    allowed     the     defendant     for     self-exploitation. 

[274] 


Rendezvous  of  the  L'rnrnJn  Cow: pirators 


» ,  ' ' ,  ■'  - 


J        3    3      'j»0    3     '    3 


Monuments  and  Memories 

Judge  Walter  T.  Cox,  who  presided,  was  one  of  the 
ablest  and  most  conscientious  jurists  who  ever  sat 
on  the  Supreme  bench  of  the  District.  From  per- 
sonal attendance  on  the  trial,  I  feel  sure  that  the 
course  pursued  by  him  was  the  only  one  which  could 
have  given  the  jury  a  sure  ground  for  dooming  the 
assassin  to  death ;  and  it  was  doubtless  a  realization 
of  that  fact  which  held  in  check  the  mob  spirit  that 
began  to  show  itself  at  one  stage  and  threatened 
to  save  the  Government  the  trouble  of  putting  up  a 
gallows.  The  popular  rancor  against  Guiteau  was 
so  strong  that  in  order  to  get  him  safely  into  the 
Court  House  from  the  "black  Maria"  which  brought 
him  from  the  jail  every  morning,  and  to  reverse  the 
operation  at  the  close  of  every  day's  session,  the 
vehicle  was  backed  up  within  about  twenty  feet  of 
one  of  the  basement  doors,  and  a  double  file  of  police, 
standing  shoulder  to  shoulder  with  clubs  drawn, 
made  a  narrow  little  lane  through  which  he  was  rushed 
at  a  quickstep,  his  face  blanched  with  terror,  and 
his  furtive  eyes  fixed  on  the  earth. 

Another  historical  incident  is  associated  with  the 
old  building,  to  which  many  attribute  the  final  resolve 
of  President  Lincoln  to  issue  his  Emancipation  Proc- 
lamation. I  refer  to  the  abolition  of  slavery  in  the 
District  of  Columbia.     A  bill  to  this  end,  introduced 

[  275  ] 


Walks   About    Washington 

by  Henry  Wilson  in  December,  1861,  was  hotly  de- 
bated in  Congress  but  finally  passed,  and  was  signed 
on  April  16,  1862.  Only  loyal  owners  were  to  be 
paid  for  their  slaves,  and  every  applicant  for  com- 
pensation had  to  take  an  iron-clad  oath  of  allegiance 
to  the  Government.  The  whole  business  was  handled 
by  a  board  of  three  commissioners,  who  employed 
for  their  assistance  an  experienced  slave-dealer  im- 
ported from  Baltimore.  They  met  in  one  of  the 
court-rooms,  and  the  dealer  put  the  negroes  through 
their  paces  just  as  he  had  been  accustomed  to  in  the 
heyday  of  his  trade,  making  them  dance  to  show  their 
suppleness  and  bite  various  tough  substances  as  a 
test  of  the  soundness  of  their  teeth.  Many  of  the 
black  men  and  women  came  into  the  room  singing 
hosannas  to  glorify  the  dawn  of  freedom.  The  high- 
est appraisement  of  any  slave  was  seven  hundred  and 
eighty-eight  dollars  for  a  good  blacksmith ;  the  low- 
est was  ten  dollars  and  ninety-five  cents  for  a  baby. 
These  were  about  half  the  prices  which  would  have 
been  brought  but  for  the  fact  that  only  one  million 
dollars  was  appropriated,  whereas  the  total  estimated 
value  of  the  slaves  paid  for  was  nearer  two  million, 
and  all  payments  had  to  be  scaled  accordingly. 

A  remarkable  feature  of  this  episode  was  the    dis- 
covery   of   how    many    slaveholders    there    were    who 

[276] 


Monuments   and  Memories 

were  not  white  people.  Now  and  then  in  the  past, 
when  for  some  special  reason  a  negro  had  been  freed, 
he  would  save  his  earnings  till  he  had  accumulated 
enough  to  buy  his  wife  and  children,  who  still  re- 
mained in  bondage  to  him  till  he  saw  fit  to  manumit 
them.  One  case  which  attracted  wide  attention  was 
that  of  a  woman  who  had  bought  her  husband,  a 
graceless  scamp  who  proceeded  to  celebrate  his  good 
fortune  by  becoming  an  incorrigible  drunkard.  This 
had  so  outraged  the  feelings  of  his  wife  that  she  had 
finally  sold  him  to  a  dealer  who  was  picking  up  a 
boatload  of  cheap  slaves  to  carry  south.  From  that 
hour  she  had  lost  sight  of  him ;  but  she  haunted  the 
commissioners'  sessions  from  day  to  day  in  the  hope 
that  the  Government,  now  that  it  was  going  into  the 
slave-buying  business,  might  give  her  a  little  addition  to 
the  bargain  price  at  which  she  had  sold  the  old  man. 

Judiciary  Square,  in  which  the  Court  House  and 
the  Pension  Office  stand,  was,  when  Chief  Justice 
Taney  lived  in  Indiana  Avenue,  a  neighborhood 
of  consequence.  Several  of  the  older  buildings  there- 
about exhale  a  flavor  of  fifty  or  sixty  years  ago,  and 
tradition  connects  them  with  such  personages  as 
Rufus  Choate,  Caleb  Cushing,  Thomas  H.  Benton, 
Stephen  A.  Douglas,  John  C.  Fremont,  and  John  A. 
Dix. 

[277] 


Walks   About    Washington 

Opposite  the  east  park  of  the  Capitol,  as  we  have 
already  seen,  stands  the  Old  Capitol,  a  building  with 
a  variegated  history.  It  was  erected  for  the  accom- 
modation of  Congress  after  the  burning  of  the  Capi- 
tol by  the  British.  In  it  Henry  Clay  passed  some 
years  of  his  Speakership,  and  till  very  lately  there 
was  a  scar  on  the  wall  of  one  of  the  rooms  which  was 
said  to  have  been  made  by  his  desk.  Under  its  roof 
the  first  Senators  from  Indiana,  Illinois,  and  Missis- 
sippi took  their  seats.  In  front  of  it.  President  Monroe 
was  inaugurated.  After  Congress  left  it  to  return 
to  the  restored  Capitol,  it  was  rented  for  a  boarding- 
house,  patronized  chiefly  by  Senators  and  Represen- 
tatives. Here  John  C.  Calhoun  lived  for  some  time, 
and  here  he  died.  In  one  of  the  rooms,  Persico, 
the  Italian  sculptor,  worked  out  the  model  of  his 
"Discoverer.''  In  another,  Ann  Royall  edited  her 
Huntress. 

After  the  Civil  War  broke  out,  the  Old  Capitol  was 
turned  into  a  jail  for  the  confinement  of  military  of- 
fenders who  were  awaiting  trial  by  court-martial, 
and  for  Confederate  spies  and  other  persons  accused 
of  unlawfully  giving  aid  and  comfort  to  the  enemy. 
Belle  Boyd,  who  was  locked  up  there  for  a  while,  has 
left  us  her  impressions  of  the  place  as  "a  vast  brick 
building,    like    all    prisons,  somber,    chilling,    and    re- 

[278] 


Monuments  and  Memories 

pulsive."  She  describes  William  P.  Wood,  who  was 
superintendent  of  the  prison,  as  "having  a  humane 
heart  beneath  a  rough  exterior."  Every  Sunday  he 
used  to  provide  facihties  for  reHgious  worship  to  his 
compulsory  guests,  announcing  the  hours  and  forms 
in  characteristic  fashion:  "All  you  who  want  to  hear 
the  word  of  God  preached  according  to  Jeff  Davis, 
go  down  into  the  yard ;  and  all  of  you  who  want  to 
hear  it  preached  according  to  Abe  Lincoln,  go  into 
No.  i6."  In  the  jail  yard  Henry  Wirz,  who  had  been 
the  keeper  of  the  Confederate  military  prison  at 
Andersonviile,  Georgia,  where  so  many  Union  soldiers 
died  of  starvation  and  disease,  was  hanged  for  murder. 
At  the  close  of  the  war  the  building  was  divided  into 
a  block  of  dwellings,  of  which  the  southernmost  was 
long  the  home  of  the  late  Justice  Field  of  the  Supreme 
Court.  The  Justice  used  to  enjoy  telling  his  visitors 
about  the  distinguished  men  from  the  South  who, 
after  dining  at  his  table,  had  roamed  over  the 
premises  and  located  their  one-time  places  of  confine- 
ment. 

The  oldest  house  of  worship  in  Washington  is  St. 
Paul's,  a  spireless  Protestant  Episcopal  church  not 
far  from  the  Soldiers'  Home.  It  stands  well  toward 
the  rear  of  the  Rock  Creek  Cemetery,  which  also 
contains    the   world-famous    bronze   by    St.    Gaudens, 

[  279  ] 


Walks  About    Washington 

in  the  Adams  lot.  This  is  a  seated  female  figure, 
in  flowing  classic  drapery,  to  which  no  one  has  ven- 
tured to  attach  a  permanent  title,  though  it  has  been 
variously  known  as  "Grief"  and  "The  Peace  of  God." 
St.  Paul's  goes  back  to  the  colonial  era  and  was  built 
of  brick  imported  from  England.  A  younger  church, 
nevertheless  numbered  among  the  oldest  relics  of  its 
class  within  the  city  proper,  is  St.  John's,  at  the  cor- 
ner of  Sixteenth  and  H  streets.  It  was  designed  by 
Latrobe  about  the  time  he  undertook  the  restoration 
of  the  Capitol  and  was  consecrated  in  1816.  It  has 
long  been  called  "the  President's  church"  because 
so  many  tenants  of  the  White  House,  just  across 
Lafayette  Square,  have  worshiped  in  it. 

Madison  and  Monroe  were  the  first,  and  the  vestry 
soon  set  apart  one  pew  to  be  preserved  always  for  the 
free  use  of  the  reigning  Presidential  family.  John 
Quincy  Adams  was  a  Unitarian,  but  came  to  the  after- 
noon services ;  and  Jackson,  though  a  Methodist, 
was  frequently  to  be  seen  there.  Van  Buren  was  a 
constant  attendant  both  as  Vice-president  and  as 
President.  William  Henry  Harrison,  for  the  month 
he  lived  in  Washington,  came  regularly,  regardless 
of  the  weather  or  his  state  of  health ;  and  he  was  to 
have  been  confirmed  the  very  week  he  died.  Tyler 
was  a  member  of  the  congregation.     Polk  had  other 

[  280] 


Mofiuments  and  Memories 

affiliations,  but  Taylor,  Fillmore,  and  Buchanan  used 
the  President's  pew.  Then  came  a  break  in  the  line 
till  Arthur  entered  the  White  House ;  and  his  retire- 
ment appears  to  have  been  followed  by  another  lapse 
in  the  succession  till  Mrs.  Roosevelt  revived  it.  Her 
husband  used  to  accompany  her  from  time  to  time, 
though  he  retained  his  active  connection  with  the 
Reformed  (Dutch)  communion.  Since  the  Roose- 
velts,  the  line  has  been  broken  again.  John  Quincy 
Adams  became  so  fond  of  St.  John's  that,  when  he 
returned  to  Washington  as  a  Representative,  he  re- 
newed his  Sunday  visits.  He  paid  close  attention 
to  the  preliminary  service  but  seemed  to  sleep  through 
the  sermon,  though  he  was  usually  able  to  repeat 
the  next  day,  with  considerable  accuracy,  the  main 
things  the  minister  had  said. 

This  whole  neighborhood  bristles  with  memories 
of  great  people.  The  old  Tayloe  mansion  was  styled, 
in  its  later  years,  "the  Cream-white  House,"  partly 
because  of  its  color,  and  partly  in  jocose  reference 
to  its  occupancy  by  two  or  three  Vice-presidents. 
The  house  on  the  corner  north  of  it,  now  owned  by 
the  Cosmos  Club,  was  the  home  of  Dolly  Madison 
in  her  widowhood.  After  her  death  it  passed  into 
the  hands  of  Charles  Wilkes,  the  gallant  naval  officer 
who  was  for  many  years  the  unrecognized  discoverer 

[281  ] 


Walks   About    Washington 

of  the  Antarctic  continent,  and  who,  in  the  early 
days  of  the  Civil  War,  forcibly  took  two  of  his  late 
Washington  neighbors,  Messrs.  Mason  and  Slidell, 
off  the  British  steamer  Trent,  which  was  conveying 
them  to  Europe  on  a  diplomatic  mission  for  the  Con- 
federate Government.  South  of  the  Tayloe  house  is 
the  Belasco  Theater,  on  the  site  of  the  old-fashioned 
red  brick  building  in  which  occurred  the  attempted 
assassination  of  Secretary  Seward  and  where  James 
G.  Blaine  passed  the  last  years  of  his  life.  On  H 
Street,  about  a  block  to  the  eastward.  General  McClel- 
lan  made  his  headquarters  in  the  intervals  between 
his  commands  of  the  Army  of  the  Potomac ;  while 
in  a  near  cluster  are  former  homes  of  Commodore 
Decatur,  John  Quincy  Adams,  Henry  Clay,  Daniel 
Webster,  Montgomery  Blair,  Gideon  Welles,  George 
Bancroft,  and  John  Hay,  as  well  as  the  house  where 
the  Ashburton  treaty  was  negotiated  and  where 
Owen  Meredith  wrote  his  "  Lucile."  Edward  Everett, 
Jefferson  Davis,  and  Tobias  Lear  lived,  at  various 
times,  a  short  distance  away. 

One  of  my  favorite  excursions  about  the  city  with 
friends  who  revere  the  memory  of  the  War  President 
is  what  I  call  my  "Lincoln  pilgrimage."  We  start 
at  the  White  House,  turn  eastward  and  take  F  Street 
to  Tenth,    and   then   southward   a   half-square.     This 

[  282] 


Monuments   and  Memories 

brings  us  in  front  of  the  building  which  once  was 
Ford's  Theater,  by  the  route  taken  by  Lincoln  on  the 
evening  of  Good  Friday,  1865.  Here  are  the  arches 
which  once  opened  into  the  theater  lobby  but  are 
now  used  for  ground-floor  windows ;  through  one  of 
them  he  passed  on  his  way  to  his  box.  Directly  across 
the  street  is  the  house  to  which  he  was  carried  to 
die.  In  it  is  preserved  the  Oldroyd  collection  of 
Lincoln  relics,  a  really  remarkable  array.  After 
inspecting  it,  we  return  to  F  Street  and  go  eastward 
again  to  about  the  middle  of  the  block,  where  an  alley 
emerges  from  a  lower  level  south  of  us.  Down  into 
this  we  dive,  and,  making  a  sharp  right-angle  turn, 
find  ourselves  at  the  old  stage-door  of  the  theater, 
beside  which  Booth  left  his  horse,  and  through  which 
he  made  his  dash  for  liberty  after  his  mad  deed. 

Back  again  up  the  alley  we  climb,  through  F  Street 
to  Ninth,  through  Ninth  to  H,  and  eastward  on  H 
Street  to  Number  604,  the  house  of  Mrs.  Surratt, 
the  rendezvous  of  the  conspirators  and  the  place 
where  some  of  them  were  captured.  It  looks  to-day 
very  much  as  it  did  on  the  night  of  the  assassination. 
Retracing  our  steps  to  Seventh  Street,  we  board  a 
southbound  car,  which  carries  us  to  the  gate  of  the 
reservation  now  occupied  by  the  Washington  Bar- 
racks   and   the   Army   War   College.     Here,    within   a 

[283  ] 


Walks  About    Washington 

few  hundred  feet  of  the  entrance,  used  to  stand  the 
military  prison  where  the  conspirators  were  confined, 
and  in  the  yard  of  which  they  paid  the  last  penalty 
for  their  crime. 

And  here,  dear  reader,  we  come  to  the  end  of  our 
present  walks  and  talks  about  Washington.  As  I 
warned  you  at  the  outset,  I  have  treated  our  wan- 
derings as  a  pleasure-jaunt  rather  than  as  a  medium 
of  solid  instruction.  When  you  find  yourself  thirst- 
ing for  the  severely  practical,  you  can  come  back 
and  make  the  round  again,  if  you  choose,  in  a  sight- 
seeing car,  and  the  megaphone-man  will  point  out 
to  you  twice  as  many  objects  of  interest  and  give 
you  three  times  as  much  information  about  them  — 
accurate  or  otherwise.  He  will  take  pains  to  show 
you  all  the  Government  buildings  and  the  hotels, 
the  foreign  legations  and  the  theaters,  the  million- 
aires' houses,  and  parks  and  circles  and  statuary 
which  I  have  dismissed  with  a  line  or  left  unmen- 
tioned.  He  will  tell  you  how  many  tons  every  bronze 
weighs,  how  long  every  edifice  took  in  building,  and 
how  large  a  fortune  every  Senator  amassed  before 
crowning  his  career  with  a  tour  of  public  service.  I 
could  have  told  you  these  things,  too,  but,  rather 
than  force  too  fast  a  gait  upon  you,  I  have  left  them 

[284] 


Monuments   a7td  Memories 

for  the  megaphone-man  and  taken  for  my  task  some 
odds  and  ends  he  could  not  take  for  his.  I  should 
have  liked  to  tell  you  how  the  Government  swept  all 
the  electric  wires  out  of  the  sky  and  hid  them  under- 
ground ;  how  it  drained  the  marshes  on  the  city's 
western  edge,  cleared  the  channels  of  the  Potomac, 
and  built  out  of  the  dredgings  a  big  pleasure-ground ; 
and  how  it  got  rid  of  the  annual  inundations,  in  one 
of  which,  just  about  a  generation  ago,  I  crossed  the 
busiest  part  of  Pennsylvania  Avenue  in  a  rowboat. 

These  improvements,  and  others  in  the  same  cate- 
gory, have  been  paralleled  by  the  changes  in  the 
architecture  of  the  city,  at  the  expense  of  tearing 
down  something  old  to  make  room  for  whatever  new 
was  to  go  up.  Touched  by  the  spirit  of  progress, 
the  face  of  Washington  is  rapidly  becoming  as  desti- 
tute of  landmarks  as  its  origin  is  destitute  of  myths, 
and  the  artist  who  visits  it  in  quest  of  the  antique 
has  a  hunt  before  him.  Nevertheless,  it  has  not 
lost  its  picturesque  appeal  for  the  pencil  guided  by 
imagination,  or  its  colorful  legends  for  the  memory 
seeking  relief  from  more  serious  things. 

Hence  this  book. 


[285] 


INDEX 


Adams,  Abigail,  9,  115,  119. 

John,  7,  73,  no,  119,  150,  156, 

228. 
John   Quincy,   20,    58,   65,   96, 

147,  150,  151,  181,  280,  281, 

282. 
Mrs.  John  Quincy,  151. 
Albert  Edward,   Prince  of  Wales, 

23,  192,  233. 
Alexandria,  Va.,  4,  12,  54,  238. 
AUston,  Theodosia,  242. 
Anacostia,  D.C.,  84. 
Anderson,  Major  Robert,  193. 
Arlington  Cemetery,  235. 
Army  War  College,  17,  283. 
Arthur,  Chester  A.,  224,  281. 

Bagot,  Sir  George,  138. 

Baird,  Spencer  F.,  274. 

Bancroft,  George,  282, 

Barksdale,  William,  103. 

Barney,  Joshua,  15. 

Barron,  James,  257. 

Beanes,  Dr.  William,  252. 

Belasco  Theater,  282. 

Bell,  John,  27. 

Bellows,  Rev.  Dr.  Henry  W.,  198. 

Benton,  Joel,  254. 

Thomas  H.,  277. 
Bladensburg,  Md.,  15,  135,  257. 
Blaine,  James  G.,  203,  215,  227,  282. 
Blair,  Montgomery,  282. 
Bodisco,  Baron,  254. 

Baroness,  255. 

[2 


Bonaparte,  Jerome,  128. 
Booth,  John  Wilkes,  43. 
Boyd,  Belle,  278. 
Braddock,  Edward,  239,  243. 
Breckinridge,  John  C,  27,  30. 

William  C.  P.,  105. 
Brooks,  Rt.  Rev.  Phillips,  243. 

Preston,  68,  189. 
Buchanan,  James,  30,  190,  196,  281. 
Buchignani,  Mrs.  (See  Mrs.  John 

H.  Eaton.) 
Bulfinch,  Charles,  56,  57,  60. 
Bull  Run,  Battle  of,  37,  236. 
Burlingame,  Anson,  190. 
Burns,  David,  4. 
Burr,  Aaron,  93,  242. 

Calhoun,  John  C,  164,  278. 

Capitol,  6,  ic,  45,  54,  136. 

Cary,  Mary,  2^8. 

Chase,  Salmon  P.,  202. 

Choate,  Rufus,  277. 

Cilley,  Jonathan,  259. 

City  Hall,  173,  271,  274,  277. 

Civil  War,  25,  26,  194,  278. 

Clay,    Henry,    65,    68,    140,    152, 

164,  172,  ]8i,  187,  256,  278, 

282. 
Cleveland,    Frances    Folsom,    226, 

229. 
Grover,  112,  225,  229,  232. 
Clinton,  George,  93. 
Cobb,  Howell,  191. 
Cockburn,  Sir  George,  15,  253. 

87] 


Index 


Congress,  8,  19,  54,  82,  85,  138. 
(See  also  Senate  and  House 
OF  Representatives.) 

Conkling,  Roscoe,  203,  215. 

Corcoran,  William  W.,  254. 

Corcoran  Gallery  of  Art,  270,  272. 

Cosmos  Club,  281. 

Court  House.     (See  City  Hall.) 

Covode,  John,  102. 

Cox,  Judge  Walter  T.,  275. 

Coxey's  Army,  80. 

Craig,  Burton  F.,  102. 

Crawford,  Thomas,  57. 

Crisp,  Charles  F.,  104. 

Cunningham,  Ann  Pamela,  245. 

Cushing,  Caleb,  214,  277. 

Custis,  George,  133,  235. 
Nellie,  251. 

Davis,  Harriet  Riddle,  209, 
Jefferson,  29,  57,  72,  282. 

Decatur,  Stephen,  257,  282. 

Dix,  John  A.,  29,  277. 

Donelson,  Andrew  J.,  162. 
Mary  Emily,  162. 

Douglas,  Stephen  A.,  27,  33,  196, 
277. 

Douglass,  Frederick,  221. 

Dreams,  Strange,  of  Lincoln,  208. 

Dueling,  Condemnation  of,  260. 


Early,  Jubal  A.,  41. 
Eaton,  John  H.,  159,  169. 

Mrs.  John  H.,  159,  168,  179. 
Electoral  Commission,  68,  219. 
Ellsworth,  Ephraim  E.,  35,  243. 
Emancipation    Proclamation,    200, 

275. _ 
Emancipation  Statue,  271. 
Everett,  Edward,  282. 

Field,  Cyrus  W.,  190. 

Stephen  J.,  279. 
Fillmore,  Millard,  185,  281. 


Ford's  Theater,  43,  209,  283. 
Fort  McHenry,  Md.,  253. 
Fort  Myer,  Va.,  237. 
Foster,  Sir  Augustus,  76,  127. 
Franklin  Square,  119. 
Frelinghuysen,  Mrs.  Frederick  T., 

225. 
Fremont,  Jessie  Benton,  255. 

John  C,  255,  277. 
French,  Daniel  Chester,  272. 
Fulton,  Robert,  254. 

Gallaudet,  Dr.  Edward  M.,  272. 
Gardiner,  David,  180. 

Julia,  179. 
Garfield,  "Grandma,"  222. 

James  A.,  222,  233,  274. 
Georgetown,  D.C.,  3,  11,  12,  251. 
Grant,  Nellie.     (See  Nellie  Grant 
Sartoris.) 

Ulysses  S.,  43,  44,  45,  205,  212,. 
225,  232,  271. 

Mrs.  Ulysses  S.,  225. 
Graves,  William  J.,  259. 
Greeley,  Horace,  203,  213. 
Green,  Bernard  R.,  273. 
Greenough,  Horatio,  58,  268. 
Grow,  Galusha  A.,  loi. 
Guiteau,  Charles  J.,  223,  274. 


Halford,  Elijah  W.,  228. 
Hamlin,  Hannibal,  32. 
Hancock,  Winfield  S.,  223,  266. 
Harrison,  Benjamin,  112,  226. 

William  Henry,  172,  274,  280. 
Hawthorne,  Nathaniel,  188. 
Hay,  John,  282. 
Hayes,  Lucy  Webb,  220. 

Rutherford  B.,  218. 
Henry,  Joseph,  274. 
Hoban,  James,  116,  231. 
House  of  Representatives,   lO,   56^ 
63,  76,  85,   139.     (See   also 
Congress.) 

[  288] 


Indi 


ex 


Hoxie,  Vinnie  Ream,  211. 
Humboldt,  Baron  von,  125. 
Hutchinson  Family,  204. 
Huygens,  Bangeman,  160,  162. 

Inaugur-\l  Balls,  134,  175, 
219. 

Jackson,  Andrew,   58,   150, 
232,  266,  270,  280. 
Andrew,  Jr.,  161. 
Mrs.  Andrew,  157,  159. 
Jay,  John,  12,  69. 
Jefferson,  Thomas,  2,  54,  68, 

121,  231,  269. 
Johnson,  Andrew,  44,  211. 
Judiciary  Square,  277. 

Kearney,  Dennis,  222. 
Keitt,  Lawrence  M.,  lOl. 
Kendall,  Amos,  272. 
Key,  Francis  Scott,  252. 
Kilbourn,  Hallet,  97. 
Kilgore,  Constantine  Buckley, 
King,  William  R.,  142,  188. 
Kossuth,  Louis,  186. 

Lafayette,  Marquis  de,  65. 
Lafayette  Park,  5,  118. 
Lamar,  Lucius  Q.  C,  102. 
Lane,  Harriet,  193. 
Latrobe,  Benjamin  H.,  56,  280 
Lear,  Tobias,  244,  282. 
Lee,  Robert  E.,  42,  235. 
L'Enfant,  Pierre  Charles,  5,  83, 
Library,  Public,  49. 
Library  of  Congress,  273. 
Liliuokalani,  Queen,  221. 
Lincoln,  Abraham,  30,  65,  195, 
271,  27s,  282. 

Mary  Todd,  196,  208. 

"Tad,"  43,  201. 

Willie,  201. 
Lind,  Jennie,  146. 
Lovejoy,  Owen,  102. 


212, 


156, 


III. 


109. 


231. 


232, 


McClellan,  George  B.,  236,  266, 

282. 
McCreary,  James  B.,  106. 
McElroy,  Mrs,  John,  224. 
McKee,  "Baby,"  228. 
McKinley,  William,  Jr.,  112,  221, 

230,  232. 
McLean,  John,  194. 
Madison,  Dolly,   19,  78,   115,   124, 

135,  144,  281. 
James,  14,  54,  125,  132,  280. 
Mall,  12,  83,  114. 
Marine  Band,  77,  124,  178,  225. 
Marshall,  John,  65,  164. 
Martineau,  Harriet,  161,  163. 
Meigs,  Montgomery  C,  237,  272. 
Mellanelli,  Sidi,  127. 
A4eredith,  Owen,  282. 
Merry,  Anthony,  125. 
Mexican  War,  22,  182,  271,  273. 
Mitchill,  Dr.  Samuel,  127. 
Monroe,  Eliza  Kortright,  115,  147. 
James,   18,   138,   147,   151,  278, 

280. 
Moore,  Thomas,  5,  125. 
Morrissey,  Mrs.  John,  213. 
Morse,  Samuel  F.  B.,  75,  182. 
Mott,  Richard  T.,  102. 
Mount  Vernon,  Va.,  244,  249. 

Negroes,     First,     in     Inaugural 

parade,  208. 
Nilsson,  Christine,  224. 

Octagon  House,  19,  137. 
O'Ferrall,  Charles  T.,  108. 
Old  Capitol,  20,  278. 
O'Neil,  "  Peggy."     (See  Mrs.  John 
H.  Eaton.) 

Paine,  Thomas,  129. 

Patterson,  Elizabeth,  128.    (See  also 

Jerome  Bonaparte.) 
Peabody,  George,  254. 


[289] 


Index 


Pension  Office,  272,  277. 
Pennsylvania  Avenue,    10,  47,  49, 

114,285. 
Persico,  Luigi,  58,  278. 
Phillips,  Wendell,  214. 
Pierce,  Franklin,  186. 

Mrs.  Franklin,  188. 
Pohick,  Va.,  246. 
Polk,  James  K.,  182. 

Sarah  Childress,  182. 
Potter,  Rt.  Rev.  Henry  C,  243. 
Presidents,  Deaths  of,  in  office,  43, 

176,  185,  208,  223,  23c. 
Presidents   and   Congress,   72,   89, 

109. 
Press,  Congress  and  the,  94. 
Prince,  Frederick  O.,  191. 
Princeton,  Sloop-of-War,  180. 

Randolph,  John,  59,  64,  94,  140, 
256. 
Robert  B.,  168. 
Ream,  Vinnie.     (See  HoxiE.) 
Reed,  Thomas  B.,  79,  103. 
Religious  Exercises  in  Congress,  77, 

.98. 
Robinson,  William  E.,  95. 
Rock  Creek  Cemetery,  279. 
Rogers,  Randolph,  59. 
Roosevelt,  Edith  Kermit,  116,  233, 
281. 
Theodore,  52,  230,  270,  281. 
Root,  Elihu,  224. 
Ross,  Edmund  G.,  211. 
Ross,  Robert,  15. 
Royall,  Ann,  20,  278. 

Saint-Gaudens,  Augustus,  279. 
Saint  John's  Church,  280. 
Saint  Paul's  Church,  279. 
Sartoris,  Algernon,  217. 

Nellie  Grant,  212,  217. 
Scott,  Winfield,  39,  183,  186,  194, 
236,  266,  267,  271,  273. 


Secession,  Progress  of,   movement, 

27. 
Senate,  United  States,  10,  55,  68, 

71,  86,  139.     (See  also  Con- 
gress.) 
Seward,  William  H.,  31,   43,   198, 

282. 
Shepherd,  Alexander  R.,  46. 
Sheridan,  Philip  H.,  267,  271. 
Sherman,  John,  102. 

William  T.,  213,  271. 
Shuter's  Hill,  54. 
Sickles,  Daniel  E.,  211. 
Slavery,  23,  64,  99,  186,  275.     (See 

also  Emancipation.) 
Smith,  Capt.  John,  3. 

Margaret  Bayard,  141. 
Smithsonian  Institution,  273. 
Soldiers'  Home,  84,  273. 
Sprague,  Kate  Chase,  202. 

William,  202. 
Stanton,  Edwin  M.,  44,  200,  207, 

211. 
"Star-Spangled     Banner,"     Song, 

252. 
Statues  of  Celebrities,  266. 
Stephens,  Alexander  H.,  29,  65. 
Stewart,  Alexander  T.,  214. 
Stockton,  Robert  F.,  180. 
Stranger,  "The  Female,"  242. 
Sumner,  Charles,  68,  189. 
Sunderland,  Rev.  Dr.  Byron,  99. 
Supreme     Court    of    the     United 

States,  II,  67,  74. 
Surratt,  Mary  E.,  283. 

Taft,  William  H.,  52,  233,  270. 
Taney,  Roger  B.,  34,  277. 
Tayloe,  Mrs.  Ogle,  170. 
Tayloe  House,  281. 
Taylor,  Zachary,  183,  195,  281. 
Telegraph,  Atlantic,  cable,  190. 

First  American,  75,  182. 
Thomas,  George  H.,  267. 


[  290] 


Indt 


ex 


Thornton,  Dr.  William,  i6,  55,  251. 
Tilden,  Samuel  J.,  218. 
Timberlake,  Mrs.     (See  Mrs.  John 
H.  Eaton.) 

Purser,  159,  168, 

Virginia,  179. 
Tracy,  Benjamin  F.,  228. 
Trent  Affair,  282. 
Trumbull,  John,  59. 
Turreau,  Louis  M.,  127. 
Tyler,  John,  177,  280. 

Van  Buren,  John,  171. 

Martin,  158,  162,  169,  176,  256, 
280. 
Victoria,  Queen,  190. 

Walter,  Thomas  U.,  56,  63. 
War  of  1812,  14,  135,  270. 
Ward,  Artemus,  200. 

J.  Q.  A.,  267. 
Washburn,  Cadwallader,  102. 
Washburne,  Elihu,  102. 
Washington,  D.C., 

Beginnings  of,  I ; 

Captured  by  British  in  1814,  15, 
56,  278; 

Growth  of,  45 ; 

In  Civil  War  Times,  24,  26; 

Journalism  in  Early  Days,  20, 

154; 
Plan  of,  5,  83,  114,  231; 


Washington,  D.C., 
Police  Force,  178 ; 
Removal  of  Government  to,  7; 
Suburbs  of,  235 ; 
Threatened    by  Gen.    Early  in 

1864,  41; 
Varying  Fortunes  of,  21. 
Washington,  George,  3,  67,  74,  81, 
89,  118,  23s,  238,  239,  240, 
243,  268. 
Martha,  118,  235,  240,  243,  249. 
Mary,  249. 
Washington   National    Monument, 

261,  270. 
Watts,  George  F.,  270. 
Webster,  Daniel,  68,  140,  164,  173. 
Weems,  Rev.  Mason  L.,  246. 
Welles,  Gideon,  282. 
White  House,  6,  8,  17,  114, 118,  135, 
147,  155,  162,  164,  172,  178, 
182,  184,  195,  197,  201,  219, 
231. 
Wilkes,  Charles,  281. 
Williams,  Harriet  Beall.     (See  Bar- 
oness BoDisco.) 
Wilmot,  David,  64. 
Wilson,  Henry,  74,  276. 

Woodrovv,  52,  73,  112,  234,  270. 
Windom,  William,  228. 
Wirz,  Henry,  279. 
Women  visiting  Congress,  93,  141. 
Wood,  William  P.,  279. 


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